


Glue

by Fire_Bear



Series: Tumblr Requests [54]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (I forgot to add, (a few of those tags also apply to the second ending), (but also these:), (don't want to spoil it but I won't tag other stuff), (if you can call it flirting), (the tags for the first and bad ending are as follows:), Alcohol, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Blow Jobs, Choose Your Own Ending, Clubbing, Dancing, Dark Ending, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Break Up, Public Sex, Rutting, Semi-Public Sex, Strange Flirting, Tattoos, dark themes, to the bad ending tags)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-18 00:13:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11862594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: Arthur's suffered a horrible break-up with his boyfriend. Unable to recover within a week, his friends insist he go to a club with them to forget about him.When a stranger turns up to comfort him as he mopes at the bar, Arthur certainly perks up for the night.





	1. <Bad End>

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlemaple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemaple/gifts).



> This is for the prompt, ['Shatter'](http://fire-bear.tumblr.com/post/162555542123/send-in-a-word-and-ill-write-a-drabble-or). 
> 
> Originally, it was only going to have the good/second ending but I wrote a line and was talking to the person who sent the prompt and I suddenly realised I had been having good endings for all of them. So I decided to write a bad ending.
> 
> I don't want to spoil the ending of that one. But you don't need to read it - you can wait for me to finish the second version and post that, if you want. :)

Whenever Arthur thought of heartbreak, he imagined a traditional lovey-dovey heart broken in two with a jagged line. Or, if it was severe enough, perhaps broken in three in such a way that it would be difficult to know how to piece it back together again. Either way, with enough care and attention, Arthur always thought of a heart as being mostly fixable.

So he didn't expect his heart to completely shatter when his perfect boyfriend revealed that he was leaving him for a hot, Greek man that he'd been with while he dated Arthur.

"How could he?!" Arthur wailed for likely the hundredth time. He hadn't been counting, even less so now that he was seated at a bar, drinking.

He was lucky to have such amazing friends. Francis, Gilbert and Antonio had turned up at his flat after only one week of his despair and lonely movie nights, trying to push the depressing thoughts aside. Instead of hugs and sympathies like they'd offered the week before, they'd insisted on him dressing up to go out ("No, no, Arthur! Wear something which shows off your tattoos – much more enticing, if you know what I mean"). Once he'd been convinced to leave the sanctuary of his own home, he had tried to lead them to the nearest bar. Unfortunately, there were protests ("No way! The beer in there is awful! We gotta go somewhere better") and they had taken a taxi to the other side of town. When they reached a club ("No, Arthur. A club will be much more fun than a bar! And we're here to cheer you up, after all") that Arthur had never been to before, he'd been ushered in. Thankfully, the bar was separated from the dance floor by a wall of soundproofed glass; patrons were able to watch the dancers while still being able to hear each other chatting over the bassy beats of the music.

At first, Arthur had attempted to have a good time. Then he'd drunk enough for him to forget where they were. Now, he was nursing his pint glass and fighting back tears as he stared at Francis with wide eyes. " _How_ _could he_?" he whispered, his hand shaking as he lifted the glass to take a large gulp.

"I don't know, Arthur," said Francis, kindly. He placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "No-one should have to experience this, least of all you."

"Yeah!" said Gilbert from his other side. "He's clearly missing out. Now, forget about him and come dance!"

Antonio leaned around him, giving Arthur a bright smile. "You never know, maybe you'll find your One True Love."

"In a club?" Gilbert scoffed. "You can't find One True Loves in a club. One True Lust, maybe, but not  _Loves_ ."

"Oh, God," groaned Arthur upon hearing their little aside. "He... He broke up with me and I... I still..." Quickly, he bit his lip but that didn't stop tears escaping. Desperately, he rubbed at his eyes, hoping none of his friends would notice.

Unfortunately, he wasn't being completely subtle and they did, in fact, notice. "Arthur," Francis said, firmly, "stop moping and come with us to the dance floor. Let loose. Dance."

"Footloose," Gilbert sang, as if that might encourage Arthur.

Sending him a weak glare, Arthur shook his head. "I don't feel like dancing. The music's giving me a headache."

"No, it's not," said Francis. "That's just the alcohol."

"We should get him some water," Antonio piped up before he darted down the bar to attract the bartender's attention.

"I don't  _want_ water," Arthur grumbled, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep himself from snapping at his wonderful friends. "I just... I really just want to be alone..."

"Isn't that the reason for you moping?" asked Gilbert, eyebrow raised. "You need to smile, laugh, dance. Come  _on_ , Arthur, that's why we're here and not in that crappy bar you drag us to when we're hanging out at your place."

"I thought we were here for the good booze."

"That, too," Gilbert agreed.

"But mostly to get you to have fun," Francis said. "No more ice cream." He paused for a moment. "We should probably cut you off from the alcohol but you do amusing things when you're drunk so I think we'll just ply you with more."

"Thanks," grunted Arthur.

"So, get off that stool. Come down to the dance floor with us and forget about everyone else. Have fun. Laugh. Make a fool of yourself." Francis squeezed Arthur's shoulder. "You'll feel better afterwards."

"Unless you have a hangover in the morning," quipped Antonio as he returned with a glass of water. He pressed it into Arthur's hands with a stern look.

Rolling his eyes at him, Arthur took a sip. As he swallowed his mouthful, he considered his options. He really didn't want to dance. Or find a One True Lust. He really just wanted to go home. But, if he did that, he knew the other three would cut their night short. With a sigh, he set down the glass and turned to them.

"I don't feel like dancing _just now_ ," he told them. "Let me drink a bit more and I'll be ready to dance."

"Hm," said Francis, giving him a Look that Arthur knew meant 'I don't think this is a good idea'.

"Well, I don't mind drinking more," Gilbert declared, grinning. "I think I'll get another-"

"You three should go dance," Arthur interrupted him. "Don't let me ruin your night."

"No way!" Antonio protested. "We came here with you for a reason. There's no point if we-"

"Tonio," said Arthur. "The three of you are crowding me. Go dance and whatever else you want to do. I'll join you in a little while. You don't need to worry about me – I'll just be here."

For a while, it seemed as though they wouldn't listen. All three of them exchanged glances, frowning and raising eyebrows as if they were communicating. Knowing them as well as he did, Arthur figured they were. Finally, Francis sighed and turned to him. "Fine. We'll go. But don't think this will get you out of dancing, young man." He wagged a finger at Arthur, downed the last of his cocktail and stalked off to the door into the club proper, hips swaying.

"Yeah," agreed Gilbert. "I wanna see you grind against someone." He grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Arthur grimaced at him. "I will _not_ -" he began but Antonio interrupted him by pushing Gilbert aside.

"Don't listen to him," he said. "You said once you wanted to learn how to tango – I've got to show you that, you know!"

"Here?" said Arthur, incredulously. "How the hell are we supposed to dance a tango with _this_ music?"

"No objections!" Antonio happily declared before he turned and pushed Gilbert along with him to catch up with Francis.

Shaking his head at his friends, Arthur turned back to the two drinks on the bar. He had the option of drinking water and sobering up a little or finishing off his beer. It didn't take that long to decide as an image of a concerned Kiku giving him some water and painkillers for a hangover popped into his head. After rubbing at his eyes to force the tears away, Arthur grabbed the beer and downed the rest of it. Once he'd finished, he waved to the bartender and asked for another.

His heart still pained him, as if it had physically been broken into little pieces. Would it be just as painful to pick them up and put them back together again? He certainly hurt thinking of moving on from Kiku. After all, he'd realised since he'd lost Kiku that he'd been in love, that he was still in love. Would he always love him? Would this pain plague him forever?

Over the years they'd been together, Arthur had tried his best to show Kiku he loved him. He'd given him roses and other flowers. Every gift he gave Kiku was carefully considered and plucked from passing comments. Whenever he saw Kiku, he gave the man a peck on the cheek and a welcoming smile. Fear had stopped him voicing his feelings: Arthur thought that, had he done so, it would have hurt more deeply when Kiku revealed what he'd been up to.

Strangely, he couldn't think of an occasion where he should have been suspicious. Kiku was perfect. He was kind and careful and understanding of Arthur's needs. His voice was soft and he wasn't loud like the rest of Arthur's friends. Kiku would have hated the club. And Arthur would have acquiesced and taken him home by now, taken him to bed and gently made love to him. Or, if he had been feeling ill, he would have given him a massage as he often did for Arthur and made him soup and-

Suddenly realising that he was crying again, he slammed his half empty glass on the counter and buried his face in his hands to rub at his eyes, willing himself to stop, to stop thinking about him.

"Hey, man, are you okay?"

Startling at the voice, Arthur spun on his stool, looking up with wide, tear-filled eyes. A tall, young man was standing there, worried expression clear on his face. With the – thankfully – better lighting in the bar, Arthur could see that he had blond hair, a little tuft sticking up having obviously resisted combing. His skin was pale and smooth and, frankly, looked a lot like a porcelain doll. Eyes glittered as they watched him but Arthur couldn't quite make out the colour as he averted his gaze, stupidly worried that the man would catch sight of his tears. Instead, Arthur took in the Star Wars glow-in-the-dark t-shirt, the blue shining on the black as a Jedi Knight wielded their lightsaber. A pair of dark jeans and a pair of black Converse completed his ensemble: the man looked more suited for a night in than a night on the town.

Still, Arthur couldn't judge him on that. With his tear-stained, red face, Arthur probably didn't look ready for a party, either. So Arthur rubbed at his eyes and frowned up at the man, still not quite looking him in the eye. "I'm fine," he said, shortly.

"Don't look fine," the man commented. "Here," he added, reaching forward to pluck the abandoned glass of water from its place on the counter. "You should probably drink this."

Annoyed, Arthur pushed the glass towards the man, his frown deepening. "No. You can have it. It's not mine."

"You could have put anything in that," said the man. " _I'm_ not gonna drink it."

"Well, just put it down and leave me be."

"I can't. I have a duty as a hero to help."

"You're not a hero."

The man gestured to his t-shirt. "I'm a Jedi Knight. Did the training and everything."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Jedi aren't real."

Putting his hand over his heart, the man gasped. "They are too real!"

"I doubt that."

"Well, okay," the man conceded. "They're not like in the films. But Jedi are a real thing."

"Right," said Arthur, wondering how to get away from the stranger without making it too obvious.

Before he could enact his plan of 'I need to find my friends', the man spoke up. "So, what's up? You look like you've been crying."

"It's none of _your_ business."

Movement beside him made Arthur look around to find that the man had lowered himself onto the stool beside Arthur. He grinned when he saw Arthur looking. "Just gonna sit here, then," he declared. "When you wanna tell me..."

Shaking his head, Arthur lifted his beer and took a quick gulp. "Don't you have your own friends to bother?"

"Nah," the man easily replied. "I wanted a bit of a change so I came out without them."

"Huh."

They sat in silence for a while, Arthur slowly drinking his beer and studiously ignoring the man. Beside him, the man propped himself up on his elbow, watching Arthur. Every so often, he poked at the glass of water, shifting it closer to Arthur's resting hand. Arthur would shoot him a glare when he noticed but quickly looked away when he found the man looking.

It was only once he'd finished his drink that the man looked away, flagging down a bartender. Arthur was surprised when he asked for the same again for Arthur and a Bloody Mary for himself: the way he'd fearlessly asked Arthur what was wrong had made Arthur suspect he'd be the kind of guy to drink something sweet. Once they'd gotten their drinks, he watched the man take a sip before taking a drink himself, considering their silence. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to tell him what was wrong...

The alcohol emboldened him and he threw caution to the wind. Taking another sip of his beer, he placed the glass carefully on the counter and spoke to its depths. "My boyfriend broke up with me a week ago."

"Ah, ouch," said the man, grimacing sympathetically.

"That wasn't the worst of it," Arthur grumbled, beginning to feel angry again. His emotions had been all over the place since he'd been unceremoniously dumped. Alcohol only made the changes more instantaneous and, as he had a new audience for his woes, he had to relive what had happened once again. Not that he had ever stopped since it happened.

God, his heart ached again.

"What was the worst of it?" asked the man, curiously.

"He's got a boyfriend now," Arthur explained, trying to avoid what the real problem was.

Seemingly startled, the man blinked at him. "How do you know that?"

For a split second, Arthur considered brushing it off, laughing and saying that he'd done enough moping and should go find his friends. But his broken heart seemed to fill his chest when he thought about the press of people on the dance floor and he sighed in defeat. "He showed up with him when he broke up with me. Turns out, he's been seeing that guy while he's been with me. After everything I-" Arthur broke off and bit his lip, trying to keep himself from spilling any more details to a complete stranger.

"Well... He can't be all that great, can he? Your boyfriend, I mean. And this new guy if he's still with him even though he knows he was cheating on _him_ , too."

Arthur snorted. "No. My boyfr- Kiku's perfect. Sweet and kind and reserved and thoughtful and- and- He was... And his new boy- The other bloke is Greek. You know: olive skin; tall; glossy, curly hair; gentle; loves cats as much as my- Kiku. _He's_ perfect. Kiku's perfect. They're probably perfect together and I'm just... an idiot..." Arthur trailed off as he teared up, the despair hitting him once again.

"Oh, come on. It's not your fault-"

"I moved across an ocean so I could be with Kiku, despite not having a job here. Now I'm working for buttons and I can't go back-!"

"Oh- Ah, I don't know your name..." said the man, sounding cautious.

Glancing at him, Arthur gave in and turned to him, holding out his hand to shake. He still couldn't bring himself to look the man in the eye, however, and kept his gaze just beyond him. "Arthur."

"Alfred," the man answered with a grin, shaking his hand firmly.

"Nice to meet you," said Arthur with a weak twitch of his lips. "Despite the circumstances."

Grimacing, Alfred kept a tight grip of Arthur's hand, even adding his other hand to the hold. "Please cheer up! This isn't your fault. I'm sure you're much more awesome than this Kiku or the other guy."

"I doubt it. I'm in a club, crying. That's not what you do in clubs."

"I'll come dancing with you, if it'll make you smile."

"No, thanks," said Arthur, drawing his hand away so he could turn and pick up his beer. With his heart still aching, he downed more of his beer, nearly finishing it. "I don't want to ruin your night."

"You're not ruining it, don't worry."

"If you say so." Arthur sighed and took another sip of his beer.

They lapsed into silence once more, Arthur swirling the remaining beer around the glass, watching the foam spin around to create different patterns. Behind him, the thumping music changed tempo as a new song started. A distant cry went up; clearly it was a popular choice.

Suddenly, Arthur felt something on his arm, the one closest to Alfred, and he gasped. Almost knocking his glass over, he was just able to catch it before it fully toppled over. Eyes wide, heart hammering ( _whole again?_ ), he turned to Alfred who had the good grace to look sheepish, slowly drawing his hand back. "Sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grin.

"It's... I just wasn't expecting it," Arthur said, his tone apologetic.

"Yeah, sorry. I was just... I wanted to ask you about this." And Alfred tapped Arthur's arm.

Glancing down, Arthur realised that Alfred was talking about his tattoo. It was a half-sleeve tattoo and was mostly obscured by the sleeve of his v-neck t-shirt. He hesitated: since he'd gotten into his father's business – briefly – after graduation, he'd taken to covering the tattoos up. In his current job, he didn't think it was wise to scare the customers, not to mention the people's reaction once they did see it. However, Alfred seemed more curious than put off so he rolled his sleeve up as far as he could to show it off.

Curling around his bicep was a collection of images interspersed by green leaves and thorny stems. A unicorn reared on its hind legs, horn pointing towards a fiery bird above it. The phoenix had its wings spread with its head raised in song. Below them, a fairy flitted through the leaves, shimmering wings inked on in detail. Her dress was pink and she wore a flower crown over her brown hair which flowed behind her. Arthur raised his arm and turned it so that Alfred could see the rest of it: a centaur galloping through the forest of leaves, bow strung and drawn, his abs painstakingly detailed. Below all of them and curled around below the vegetation was a mermaid, her tail blue and her blonde hair spread by the water, encroaching on the leaves.

"They end in roses on my shoulder," Arthur added, tapping at where his sleeves refused to move further. "They go across my shoulder before dipping down onto my shoulder blade."

"Wow!" Alfred's eyes were wide with awe. "That's amazing."

"I've got one on this arm, too," Arthur told him. He used the counter to spin himself around, grimacing a little when a sense of dizziness swept through him. Once he had recovered, he rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt and showed off the other tattoo.

Instead of a flowing, interconnected half-sleeve, this one featured a pirate captain. The man had black hair curling around his chin and tanned skin, weather-beaten and scarred. A large black hat with a red feather sweeping backwards sat atop his head. He had his hand resting lightly upon it as if to prevent it blowing off. His coat was black with red highlights which covered his white shirt, black vest, black breeches and large, black boots. A wide belt held a pistol and cutlass. With his other hand, the pirate captain held onto some rigging, his coat billowing out around him, and, with an incredible use of perspective, the deck of the ship could be seen below.

Lifting his arm once again, Arthur showed Alfred the other side. There, a massive skull-and-crossbones took up half of his arm. The black and white inking had taken some time and had been the most painful for Arthur – possibly because he had had trouble holding his arm in the particular position for long enough. Beneath it, a chest full of treasure sat, its lid open to reveal the gold and gems.

"There's a compass on my shoulder blade," Arthur said as he lowered his arm again.

"Cool!" exclaimed Alfred, reaching out to steady Arthur as he turned back around. "How come you're not wearing a vest top or something? You could show off your tattoos then."

Grimacing, Arthur shook his head. "I don't own one of them."

"You should. You'd look even hotter than you do now."

Arthur had been in the process of finishing off his beer when Alfred said that. He gasped and was soon coughing violently as he choked. Harsh slaps to his back helped him out a little but he was left gasping afterwards, a hand still rubbing at his back as he tried to catch his breath. When he'd recovered enough, Arthur sent Alfred a small smile and noted how worried Alfred looked.

"Are you okay?!" Alfred cried. "D'ya wanna drink? Here, have this. I'll go get you another beer." And he shoved his Bloody Mary towards Arthur.

Gratefully, Arthur picked up the glass and took a cautious sip. It both soothed his throat and burned it. But it tasted spicy and Arthur took another gulp once he'd calmed down enough. Remembering that it was Alfred's drink and not his, Arthur set it down once he'd drunk half of it. He scrunched his nose up at that: the glass did not hold a large volume of the drink and he hoped Alfred wouldn't mind that he'd drunk more than Alfred had himself.

"Here," said Alfred as he returned, pint of beer in his hand. "Are you sure you're okay? Don't want you dying on me..."

Snorting, Arthur took a comforting sip. "I doubt I'd die. Sorry about your drink."

"Nah, it's fine. You can have it, if you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah! I mean, I only really order them so I can say it's blood. You should see people's faces when I tell them that!"

Chuckling, Arthur shook his head. "That's so childish."

"You find it funny, too!"

"Maybe," Arthur said with a grin.

They lapsed into a very brief silence. Naturally, Alfred was the one to break it. "So, when did you get them done?"

"I got myself a part-time job at sixteen to pay for it and ended up getting the first part of this one" – he shook the arm with the mythical creatures on it – "when I turned eighteen. I hadn't left school yet and my parents were _pissed_. But I moved into the halls at university a few months later so they couldn't stop me getting the rest of it. I went home at Christmas with half the arm done and my parents refused to give me my presents."

" _Seriously_?!"

"Yeah. My younger brother thought it was cool so he smuggled them out to me. I think he wants to get a tattoo when he turns eighteen, as well."

"Awesome. What did your boyfriend think when you were getting them?"

The reminder of Kiku sent a lance of pain through Arthur's heart and he had to grab his beer to take a gulp. Somehow, he managed to swallow his pain down with the alcohol so he could glance at Alfred and say, "I didn't have a boyfriend at the time. Kiku came later."

"Ah... But what did he think of them? I mean, you got the tattoos but you cover them up. He didn't tell you that you had to hide them, did he? 'Cause that's just stupid."

Arthur frowned at him. "No. I mean, he wasn't particularly fussed about them. No opinion, one way or the other. Although... There was that one time his parents were visiting... They were just getting over the fact that he's gay and Kiku didn't want to give them anything else to disapprove of so he asked me to make sure they were covered up completely. It's a good thing my tattoos stop here." He reached up to indicate that the tattoos stopped halfway along his shoulder, covered by the collared shirts he usually wore.

"Hmm," said Alfred, looking a little pained. "That's... I mean..."

Eyes narrowing, Arthur looked at Alfred. "What are you trying to get at?"

"Nothing... No, it really doesn't matter. Just... I would never do that to you. I love your tattoos. I lo-" Alfred stopped to clear his throat. "I like you. A lot."

Dumbfounded, Arthur laughed. "What? You've only just met me and I've been talking about my boyfr- My _ex_ -" Arthur stopped to take a breath, distantly noting that his chest didn't feel as painful at the thought. "Talking about _him_ ," he finished.

Alfred grinned at him. "Yeah, but I'm learning a lot about you."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like you've got awesome tattoos," Alfred declared, waving his hands in his enthusiasm and almost knocking over his own drink. "You like mythical creatures and pirates and roses. You went to university to study _something_ -"

"Business," Arthur provided, automatically. He grimaced. "My parents both have their own businesses, family-run, and wanted us all to go into it, even though my older brothers are already working with them..."

"See? Now I just found out you've got older brothers and are... quite well off?" Alfred paused until Arthur nodded his affirmative. "And you've got at least one younger brother. Who might get a tattoo soon. So, you studied business but left that for a less well-paying job here with a boyfriend – which means you're into men, at least. And that I have a chance." There, he stopped to wink at Arthur.

Feeling his face heat up, Arthur hoped the likely flush from the alcohol would cover it. "I'm bisexual," he confirmed, making sure not to make eye contact.

"Another thing! Let's see, what else...? You like beer. You... got dragged out by your friends? I mean, you don't look like you wanted to come out, if you're sitting at the bar on your own."

"I made them go dance, like they wanted to," Arthur explained, in order to stop Alfred from thinking he had bad friends as well as a bad boyfriend.

"There we go," said Alfred with a smile. "Now I know you're kind. Actually, I knew that from when you started talking to me – kind enough to talk to someone who's just butting in and being annoying." Alfred laughed then, a short, self-deprecating one. He rubbed the back of his head and gave Arthur a sheepish look.

"You're not being annoying," Arthur quickly told him. "You've been far kinder than I have. Oh! I should buy you a drink, to make up for the ones you've bought me."

"No, no!" Alfred was quick to say, placing a hand on Arthur's arm to halt his attempt to get up. "I don't need one, I'm fine."

"But..."

"Nah, seriously," said Alfred, smiling. "I'd rather chat to you than have you rushing off to get something to drink."

Surprised, Arthur pulled a face. "Really? I doubt I'm the most interesting person to talk to tonight."

With a fond smile, Alfred leaned forward, reaching out for Arthur. For a moment, Arthur could only watch as Alfred's hand came towards him. He gently cupped Arthur's cheek and Arthur found that his eyes were fluttering, threatening to close. Heart hammering, breath caught, Arthur swayed on his seat, unsure what was happening. Then Alfred's hand slid around to the back of Arthur's head and guided Arthur towards him, his glazed eyes straying to Alfred's lips. Arthur's hands subconsciously raised so that he could brace himself against Alfred's chest – and, in that moment, Arthur realised that he was about to kiss a complete stranger, about to betray the love he still felt for Kiku.

Gasping, Arthur jerked backwards. Unfortunately, he had forgotten he was sitting on a stool and the alcohol in his system didn't help: he began to fall backwards. In a desperate attempt to keep his balance, Arthur flung his arms out. Despite that helping him, his hand chopped into his glass of beer. It toppled over and, instead of spilling over the counter, threw its contents into Arthur's lap as he turned to try to grab it. With the sudden drenching, Arthur yelped and tried to leap to his feet. The alcohol rushed to his head at that moment, making him feel dizzy and light-headed. The room seemed to tilt for a moment until, suddenly, hands firmly gripped Arthur's arms; the smooth feeling of Alfred's hands sliding under Arthur's sleeves made him shudder.

"Geez, you okay?" asked Alfred, his eyes searching Arthur's face. Then he glanced down, his gaze lingering on Arthur's crotch.

"Yes. Sorry..." Arthur looked down at himself, too, wondering what he should do now. His mind seemed to swim sluggishly to the answer so it was no surprise when Alfred piped up with a sensible suggestion.

"Come on. We need to get you to the bathroom."

"Mm." Arthur nodded as he let Alfred manoeuvre him around the stools before taking his arm and tugging him in the right direction. When Arthur stumbled a little, Alfred's hand steadied him before suddenly disappearing. Arthur almost panicked until he felt Alfred's hand at the small of his back, a warm presence that Arthur was mostly happy about, though some small part of him was shouting that this was wrong.

Finally, they reached the correct door and Alfred pushed it open. He guided Arthur to the long counter of shiny sinks. A long mirror was attached to the wall above it; when Arthur glanced into them, he could see the urinal and a couple of cubicles behind him. Alfred left him when he was sure Arthur was holding onto the counter and fetched a handful of paper towels.

"Lucky they have some of these in here," Alfred commented, handing them over.

Glancing at the hand-dryer, Arthur frowned in confusion. "I can dry myself under that," he told Alfred, gesturing at it.

"No, Arthur," said Alfred, sounding fond. "I thought you could clean yourself up."

"Oh." Arthur decided that might be a good idea so he turned on a tap and soaked part of the paper towel. Then he got to work, grimacing as he scrubbed at his tight jeans.

For a while, there was relative silence, the thumping music still permeating their space. There seemed to be no-one else using the toilet so they were left to themselves. Once again, Alfred was the one to break the silence. "Arthur," he murmured, sounding close. "Do you like me?"

Surprised by the question, Arthur glanced up to look at Alfred in the mirror. Once he'd focussed on him, he realised that he was looking Alfred in the eyes. He had the most beautiful, blue eyes, even better than Francis's. They were like the sky- No, the ocean- No, the bright blue of icing on a colourful cake- They drew him in and all his thoughts fled, focussed on Alfred and only Alfred. He was a beautiful man and Arthur only wanted to please him. What had the question been?

"Yes," Arthur answered with a smile.

"Good," muttered Alfred as he wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist. Arthur dropped the paper towels he was holding, oblivious to the tap still running. "Will you come home with me?"

"Yes."

"Then follow me," Alfred said into Arthur's ear before he pressed a kiss just under it. Arthur shuddered again and Alfred chuckled. Then he turned Arthur around. "One for the road," he said and pressed a chaste kiss to Arthur's lips. Arthur melted into it, instantly wanting more. But Alfred pulled away and, gently taking Arthur's hand, led him from the toilet, through the bar and out into the night.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to find a taxi willing to take them to the outskirts of town. The area was one Arthur had never been in before and he was amazed at how big the houses were becoming as they travelled onwards. But only a small part of his mind was occupied with thinking that as, once they had fallen into the backseat, pressed up against each other, Alfred had turned to Arthur and, with a hand running up and down Arthur's inner thigh, he kissed Arthur.

To begin with, he stuck to quick presses of his lips, the skin there cool against Arthur's flushed skin. However, it didn't take long for Arthur to become greedy, his hands reaching up to pull Alfred closer, keeping his head in place so they could kiss for longer, mouths moving fluidly against each other. Alfred was the one to lick his way along Arthur's lips and he eagerly parted them, allowing Alfred to force his way inside, his long tongue licking his way around Arthur's mouth.

Kiku's face swam behind Arthur's eyes, the memories of just such kisses bleeding into the sensation of Alfred's confident dominance. Arthur had always been so gentle and cautious when doing the same thing to Kiku and Kiku wasn't the type to be so domineering. But this was refreshing and _feels just right, doesn't it?_

His thoughts were lost once again as Alfred's hand pushed its way between his legs. Arthur hesitated, something stopping his immediate obedience. But he was soon spreading them, allowing Alfred's hand to continue without opposition. Alfred was quick to slide his hand along until he bumped against Arthur's half-hard cock. Then he pulled away from their kiss – leaving Arthur panting – to smirk at him. Without any more warning, he pressed against Arthur's dick and Arthur's hips bucked, completely out of his control.

That was when the taxi arrived at a huge house, with more rooms than any family really needed, unless it was one with a large brood. And grandparents. And possibly some cousins. It seemed to be a mix of architectural styles: there was something medieval in the entryway and one side seemed to be Gothic while Arthur swore he could see a stained glass window at the other side. An overly large porch stretched the entire width of the house, its platform in shadows. Actual gargoyles crouched atop posts on either side of a huge, metal gate. Something glinted in their mouths and Arthur realised there were cameras within them.

Aside from the house, there was also the size of the grounds. A garden covered the space between the gate and the front door. Pathways and greenery and flowers, dull in the darkness, covered the ground. Arthur turned his head but he couldn't see any end to the plants. Some of them seemed to be overgrown. When Alfred pushed open the gate, Arthur could see that the gardens were far bigger than he expected and sprawled around the building.

Something about the whole set-up was unsettling.

"You... live here?" Arthur asked, slowly.

"Yeah," Alfred answered absently as he shut the gate.

"It's just..." Arthur gave Alfred a once over when Alfred took hold of his hand and began to lead him along the main path. "This seems... Did your parents buy it for you?"

"Nah. Built it myself, more or less."

"You... What? But..."

Confused, Arthur looked at the building they were approaching. Then he looked around the garden they were passing through. "Did you... Did you make the garden as well?" he asked, weakly.

"Yup. Took me a while. Good few years." Something about that amused Alfred and he laughed at himself.

"But... How? I mean... This looks... And the-"

"Arthur," said Alfred. He pivoted and caught Arthur once he stumbled into him. Startled, Arthur gasped and clutched at Alfred's shirt, noting with some amusement that the lightsaber was still glowing. Alfred's hands were suddenly on his waist and he helped Arthur regain his footing. "Look at me," Alfred ordered – and, despite his irritation at being told what to do by someone who Arthur thought looked younger than him, Arthur's eyes were quick to seek those beautiful ones.

In the darkness they were glowing, drawing him in...

Lips were on his and Arthur wasn't aware how they had gotten there. But he enjoyed the sensation and let Alfred domineer the kiss once more. Arthur's tongue brushed against Alfred's as he gleefully reciprocated, pressing himself against Alfred as much as possible. Alfred had other ideas: he pushed Arthur back a little by the waist and reached down. Dismayed at being shoved away, Arthur moaned in surprise when Alfred grabbed hold of his cock, soft now from his misgivings – Alfred squeezed Arthur and awkwardly stroked him a couple of times, as much as he could through the tight jeans. Arthur whimpered into Alfred's mouth when he did that, his hips bucking, seeking more of Alfred's hands on him.

"Please," he whispered against Alfred's lips.

"Don't worry, babe. Not far to go."

He drew away from Arthur then, ignoring Arthur's whine that he was unable to keep from escaping. Grabbing Arthur's hand in a tight grip, he led him the rest of the way to the house. There was still something about it that was making Arthur nervous but Alfred's thumb rubbed comforting circles into the back of Arthur's hand and he felt able to ignore it.

What he couldn't ignore, however, was that a window in the house had movement in it. Blinking, he focussed on it, wondering what he had seen. The swinging of a curtain answered that question. Did Alfred live with someone? Was he cheating on his boyfriend, just as Kiku had done to _him_ -?

With that thought, Arthur was able to halt them both at the bottom of the steps, tugging at his hand. Alfred seemed startled and turned to look at him with wide eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked, playing innocent.

"Don't-! There's someone here!" Arthur exclaimed. "You... You're trying to get me to be a part of your aff-"

"There's no-one here," Alfred told him, using his free hand to cup Arthur's face. He tried to tilt Arthur's head back but Arthur jerked free, his frown deepening.

"And... what am I even doing here? Why did I-?"

Alfred's hand suddenly gripped his chin and yanked his head up. Pain lanced through Arthur's neck before simply washing away as his eyes met Alfred's. "You're here because you want to fuck me, right?"

"Ah..." Arthur blinked slowly, letting those blue eyes take him in, enveloping him in warmth, caressing his heart. "Yes."

"We're so close," Alfred murmured. "Don't stop here. Come inside. I give you my permission to enter." Again, that seemed to be a joke as Alfred gave a little chuckle, eyes shining.

"Right," Arthur agreed.

They made their way up the steps to the grand porch. There was a love swing on either side along with lots of comfortable chairs, some of them deckchairs. The door was made of wood but something like gold glittered upon it. Arthur looked at the pattern it made, frowning as he made out a man, holding open a cloak, mouth open to reveal-

Before he could make out any more details, the door swung open at Alfred's touch. It made a sort of whispering noise as it swung across the floor within but Arthur couldn't see what it was made of. In fact, he couldn't see anything as the lobby was in darkness. Something skittered away, perhaps a mouse or a pet of some sort. He didn't get a chance to ask as Alfred pulled him inside; he had to focus on keeping himself upright as he stumbled after him.

With another yank, however, Arthur was soon pulled off his feet, regardless. Alfred let go of his arm as he fell and caught him by the waist so that Arthur was flush against his side, his hands resting on Alfred's broad chest. Turning, Alfred swung the door shut, plunging them in darkness. Something about that made Arthur uneasy, his instincts screaming at him to run, his cock telling him to stay, his heart telling him to trust Alfred.

So, when Alfred spun him around and backed him up, Arthur let him, his eyes wide as he strained to see. He bumped into the door and, before he could move, before he could say anything, before he could flee, Alfred was upon him, lips pressing insistently against Arthur's mouth. Arthur responded in kind and quickly allowed Alfred to plunge his tongue into Arthur's mouth. Wrapping his tongue around Alfred's, Arthur let his arms wrap around Alfred's neck, trying desperately to pull him closer.

Thankfully, Alfred obliged. He pressed Arthur closer and closer to the door, their bodies moulding against each other's. Then, without warning, he dragged his half-hard cock all the way along Arthur's, drawing a long moan from Arthur's throat. Heart pounding, Arthur bucked up against him, welcoming the movements. Soon, they were too busy rutting against each other to do much else. Arthur was willing to come right there, in his trousers.

Somehow, their lips had parted. Arthur only realised when he heard himself whispering, "Fuck. Oh, fuck. Fuck, Al-"

"Arthur," Alfred practically purred. "So good, Arthur. Come for me."

And he found himself obeying. Without wondering too much why, he wanted to please Alfred. He ground against Alfred particularly hard and, with an inarticulate yell, he came. His senses quickly returned to him in the same instant as his knees buckled. Before he could fall to the floor, though, Alfred's hands moved from their place on Arthur's hips to grab Arthur's arse. Making no noise whatsoever, Alfred then lifted Arthur off the ground. Gasping, Arthur panicked a little and was quick to latch onto Alfred with his legs, wrapping them around Alfred's waist and locking them together at the ankles.

"Good," said Alfred, pressing his lips to Arthur's cheeks so he could feel his grin. "Let me show you to the bedroom." And, squeezing Arthur's arse cheeks, Alfred trailed his lips over to Arthur's mouth, planting another hungry kiss there.

As they kissed, tongues wrapping around each other, parting for breath only briefly, lips pressed together, teeth scraping, Alfred moved. At first, Arthur didn't register the swaying motion. But it quickly came to his attention when Alfred's hard cock began to shift against Arthur's sticky crotch. Every step had them brushing against each other. Delighted with this revelation, Arthur began to grind against Alfred, relishing each moan that dropped from his lips.

Eventually, there came a moment when they were jarred by something and Arthur pulled away, breathing heavily, to look around. He quickly realised that he could see, mainly because of the multitude of candles which covered every flat surface of the room: windowsill, chairs, table, chest of drawers, bedside table. The bed was far larger than any he had ever been in and had posts and curtains.

He was unable to see anything else as Alfred leaned up to him for another kiss. It consumed his attention as he was walked over to the bed. Almost gently, Alfred dropped him onto it; the bed was soft and Arthur wished he could stay on it and never leave. Once again, he was distracted by his surroundings by a kiss, Alfred's knee pressing against his crotch as Alfred crawled over him.

When they stopped to breathe heavily into each other's mouths, Alfred smiled down at him, looking almost fond. "Time to see the rest of those tattoos, hm?" And, easily balancing on his knees, Alfred slid his hands underneath Arthur's t-shirt. It made Arthur suck in a breath, trails of heat running up his body. Once it had been pushed up far enough, Alfred gripped it and pulled Arthur up for long enough to whip the garment off him and throw it aside.

Eager to reciprocate, Arthur reached out for Alfred's as well but his partner stopped him, gripping his wrists firmly. Arthur frowned at him. "But-"

"No, no, babe. I'll do it." Alfred leaned forward to pin Arthur's hands to the mattress, his shirt brushing against Arthur's skin. "You've had a tough week; let me treat you."

"But..." Arthur repeated, frowning up at him.

Sighing, Alfred said, "Do I need to tie you up?" Arthur couldn't stop himself from shuddering at the idea: Alfred was quick to notice. "Oh? You _want_ me to tie you up?"

"I... uh..."

With a grin lighting up his face, Alfred backed off. "Shuffle back," he said as he slid off the bed. "To the pillows." He hurried off to the bedside table.

Hesitating, Arthur considered whether he truly felt comfortable with someone he didn't know very well tying him up. But his arousal dictated his actions, providing him with assurances that he would enjoy it. Convinced, he did as he was told, laying his head onto the soft pillows.

"Good," said Alfred, crawling back onto the bed. He balanced with one hand as he held the other aloft, spinning a set of handcuffs around his finger. "Let's get you attached to the wall."

"Wall?" asked Arthur, confused. He craned his neck back and found that there was a ring set into the wall there. It was big enough to let the open handcuffs pass through but would stop the closed ones from getting free. "What's that for?" he asked, bewildered as to why Alfred had built that into his room.

"For this," Alfred replied, deftly opening up the handcuffs and slipping them through. "Raise your arms for me."

Doing as he was told, Arthur watched him close the cuffs around his wrists. "Seems kind of strange to attach it to the wall permanently," Arthur commented.

Finished with his preparations, Alfred knelt back just far enough to look Arthur in the eye. "Does it worry you?"

Thinking about the question, Arthur realised that, far from being concerned, it made him feel comforted. Alfred had obviously done this sort of bondage before. Clearly, Arthur would be well looked after. He smiled up at Alfred. "No," he said.

"Awesome," said Alfred – and promptly ducked down to suck one of Arthur's nipples into his mouth.

Gasping, Arthur arched up into the feeling, relishing the wetness enveloping the nub. Teeth scraped at him and he groaned at the thought of being bitten. Instead, Alfred sucked at it, as if he was desperate for a taste of him. Arthur shifted, chasing more sensations, more of Alfred. His crotch brushed against Alfred's knee and he tried to grind against it before Alfred moved away. Trying to follow, Arthur was abruptly stopped short by the handcuffs. Alfred grinned into Arthur's chest, something he could feel rather than see. Realising that he was teasing him, Arthur huffed and relaxed back into the mattress.

Slowly, Alfred made his way across to Arthur's other nipple, kissing and licking and sucking at Arthur's skin – but never biting. Arthur yearned for his teeth to nip at him, to bruise him, mark him as _Alfred's_. Even though he belonged to someone else... Kiku-

Alfred's lips wrapped around Arthur's other nipple and his thoughts were lost as a wave of pleasure swept over him. He groaned again as Alfred licked and sucked at it. Again, his teeth scraped at it, rolling it between them. But he never bit down and soon retreated.

"Fuck," breathed Arthur as Alfred shuffled away from him, leaving him trussed up and wanting. "Alfred."

"Hm?" said Alfred as he unbuckled Arthur's belt. "Something wrong?"

"Ah," Arthur sighed. "I..." Not knowing what he was wanting to say, he stopped speaking, looking down his body to watch Alfred undo his jeans.

"You...?" Alfred glanced up at him as he unzipped them. "Ah, you want me to-" Breaking off, he stared down at Arthur, blinking. "Huh."

It took Arthur a second to understand what the problem was. "Oh. Um. They're very tight jeans..."

"So you opted to go commando? Very brave." Alfred smirked. "Almost makes me think you _wanted_ me to notice you."

Frowning, Arthur said, "What do you-?" He broke off with a gasp as Alfred reached in to pull Arthur's cock out. Arthur quickly sighed, the relief instant as his erection no longer strained against the stiff material of his trousers.

"Look at this. It's quite big, isn't it?" said Alfred, doing nothing but admiring Arthur's dick in his hand.

"I... I suppose?" Arthur replied, watching him, waiting for him to begin stroking him.

"It'll fill me up quite well," Alfred continued, sounding quite distracted.

"Huh? But I thought..."

"Sorry, nope. Kinda hard to do that." Alfred chuckled at the probably unintentional pun.

"What? Why?"

"Never you mind, sweetheart," said Alfred, tapping Arthur on the nose. The sudden desire to rub at it made Arthur wrinkle his nose, well aware he couldn't move his hands. "Let's just get these off..." And he let Arthur go to grab his jeans and start yanking them down. After a few yanks, he stopped, Arthur's crotch uncovered but his legs still wrapped in denim. "How... were you going to get out of these?" he asked.

Arthur attempted to shrug a shoulder, the handcuffs jangling as he moved. "Experience."

Raising his eyebrows, Alfred reached down again. "Ah, well," he said. "No need for them to come all the way off." Gripping Arthur tightly, he began to stroke him, his thumb swiping over the tip whenever he reached it. Arthur stifled a gasp but shuddered instead, glad of the tight friction suddenly surrounding his cock. It made the pleasure slowly build, Alfred keeping up a steady pace.

The handcuffs jangled again as Arthur tried to buck up into Alfred's fist, his hips moving almost without his control. Alfred was still wearing all his clothes and the desire to rip them from him began to settle within Arthur's being. Without much conscious thought, his arms strained against the handcuffs, the metal biting into his skin, the slight nip of pain adding to his pleasure as he tried to reach Alfred.

Suddenly, Alfred let go of Arthur, leaving him whimpering at the loss. "Hold on," Alfred said and quickly removed his t-shirt. Arthur was glad to see it go: he didn't want to ever have to admit that he came on someone wearing a Star Wars top. He was even more glad when he saw that Alfred was muscled. The candlelight glinted off his glistening, pale skin and he seemed almost supernatural with the way he was sculpted and how perfectly sexy he looked. Arthur could see, now more than ever, how people could be lured in by him, taken in bed and elsewhere...

Frowning slightly, Arthur began to wonder why he had decided the guy in the Star Wars t-shirt was a good pick for a one-night stand. Did he even want a one-night stand? He had just lost Kiku – moving on so soon seemed disrespectful, as if he'd given up on them to easily. Why was he here? Why had he-?

"Hey," said Alfred, capturing his attention once more. Arthur's eyes focussed on his perfect body immediately, licking his lips as his cock twitched. "Up here," Alfred added and Arthur looked up. His eyes met Alfred's and he remembered how enticing Alfred was, how much he wanted Alfred to fuck him, how he wanted to thrust his dick in his tight arse. For a second, Arthur lost his breath. Then, smiling at Alfred, he inhaled deeply and nodded.

As soon as he'd done so, Alfred was upon him. His hand pumped Arthur's length, a little faster than before. It made Arthur moan lowly, arching up, the handcuffs digging into his wrists. His eyes fluttered shut for an instant – but that instant was all Alfred needed to remove his hand and replace it with his mouth. Heat enveloped Arthur's cock along with the slick press of Alfred's tongue. Teeth scraped along his skin but Arthur only gasped at that, relishing in the sensation. His body felt electrified as Alfred took him deeper and deeper and-

A loud groan escaped Arthur as Alfred deepthroated him without pause. He tried to thrust into the tight heat he felt around him, his hips moving upwards as much as possible. Unfortunately for Arthur, he couldn't get any leverage with the way Alfred was sprawled over his legs and the fact that his hands couldn't be used to brace himself on the mattress. That didn't stop him from trying, the pain in his wrists once again adding to his pleasure.

When Arthur had sank into the mattress, relaxing a little as no new sensations spread through him, Alfred began to move. He drew his head all the way to Arthur's tip before dropping back down to deepthroat him. Slowly, he built up a rhythm, speeding up till he was going so fast that Arthur couldn't catch a breath. Arthur groaned and moaned and gasped and arched up. It felt as if his cock was covered in tight heat and caressed by the cold air of the room all at the same time. Friction from Alfred's tongue and teeth built up his pleasure. He wanted to dig his fingers into Alfred's hair; he tugged on the handcuffs constantly, the pain building alongside his impending orgasm.

In no time at all, Alfred's mind was completely devoid of any thoughts. It was overtaken with lust, _more_ , pleasure, _Alfred_ , heat, _so good_ , pressure, _tight_ , swallowing- A sudden sensation of sucking had Arthur yelling as he came down Alfred's throat. The intensity of the orgasm meant that he could feel each ribbon of cum escaping him, his cock pulsing in Alfred's throat.

Some time afterwards, Arthur returned to his senses, his wrists throbbing with pain, his breathing laboured, his legs still pinned with Alfred's weight, his tongue lapping at Arthur's dick. Alfred seemed to sense that Arthur was able to speak again and lifted his head, licking his lips. He paused, waiting for Arthur to look at him, feeling dazed. Then, he swallowed, making a show of it. Somehow, the sight was just as erotic as having Alfred's mouth on him and he shuddered.

"You weren't meant to come," Alfred said. "Naughty."

"S-Sorry..." Arthur replied, still panting a little.

"It's okay. I just needta get ya hard again."

"Um."

He didn't get to protest further. Alfred propelled himself forward, sliding along Arthur's body. At some point, he had removed his trousers and, though he held himself aloft enough that their crotches didn't touch, Arthur could feel skin against his legs. At some point, during the blowjob, Alfred must have removed them himself. Arthur stared at him as he suddenly appeared in front of his face.

Smiling encouragingly, Alfred quickly pressed his lips against Arthur's. He encouraged Arthur to open his mouth and, still a little breathless, Arthur complied. As soon as their tongues twined, Arthur could taste the salty, odd taste of cum and quickly realised that he was tasting himself. It made him moan into the kiss, his cock twitching slightly.

Ever so slowly, the kiss became a snog, Alfred's tongue and lips moving with Arthur's. Alfred's hands moved from Arthur's hips, rubbing along his body. Tingles spread from Alfred's hands, sending pleasure throughout Arthur's body. The pain in Arthur's wrists seemed to lessen as he forgot about them.

Losing himself in Alfred's ministrations, Arthur let himself relax again. Lips and tongue on his. Hands stroking him. Arms being massaged, relieving the pain of being stretched above Arthur's head. Wrists rubbed gently, apologies in the kisses peppered over his face. Chest warming, expanding, as his heart seemed to heal, seemed to swell with the love being presented to him.

Alfred's lips moved on from his face, brushing down his collarbone. Sharp teeth scraped at his skin but it was merely a pleasurable sensation. Lips pressed against his chest. His nipples were played with as he gasped and sighed, pleased with the attention. They lowered again as Alfred kissed at his belly button, swirling his tongue around and in it. Before Arthur was quite aware of it, Alfred was licking from the base of Arthur's half-hard cock to the tip, making him shudder. His dick hardened and he stared along his body with wide eyes as Alfred wrapped his lips around his tip. It only took a couple of long sucks for Arthur to become completely hard – and Alfred raised himself off Arthur once he was.

Panting, Arthur shook his head and tried to reach for Alfred, to make him return that lovely warmth to him. But the handcuffs stopped him once again and he only made them bite into his skin. He winced, no pleasure to soften the pain – and his mind seemed to return to him, muddled and confused. Strangely, he remembered agreeing to everything up to this moment but he didn't feel as if he had been in control of himself. Beginning to panic, he tugged at the handcuffs, hoping he could slip free.

Before he could voice his desire to go, Alfred crawled atop him. Arthur couldn't stop himself from looking up at him, straight into those beautiful eyes. All Arthur wanted in that moment was to kiss Alfred and, thankfully, Alfred bent his head to do so. They kissed, softer and gentler than the times before. It only made Arthur all the more aroused.

When Alfred pulled away, Arthur chased those lips as far as he could move. Alfred grinned down at him. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" asked Arthur, confused again.

"For me to ride you," Alfred told him.

"Well, I mean..." said Arthur, aware that he was probably a brighter red than before. "I... Are _you_ ready?"

"Yup." Alfred shuffled backwards until he was hovering over Arthur's crotch. The sight was immensely erotic, Alfred's muscles tensing in his bare legs and torso. He reached back to grip Arthur, holding him steady, lining him up. That glorious sight became all the more arousing.

"But..." said Arthur, pausing to gulp as Alfred returned his gaze. "But... Don't you need to prepare yourself?" There was no way Alfred could have opened himself up enough while sucking him off.

"Oh, I'm good," said Alfred – and, without any more warning, he dropped down onto Arthur, sinking down, down, down till he was completely filled with Arthur's cock.

Arthur could only hold onto the metal rings of his handcuffs, clutching them tightly. His eyes were squeezed shut, his breath lost as tight heat enveloped him. There was no condom to lessen the feeling of Alfred's walls surrounding the sensitive organ. All his thoughts circled on the heat, the tightness, and the drag as Alfred seated himself. His breath returned in a gasp once he was fully lowered, his hips lifting as he subconsciously tried to buck upwards. Arthur wanted to do much more, right now...

"I'm going to move now," Alfred gasped out, drawing Arthur's attention enough so that he opened his eyes to look at him. He looked as gorgeous as he did in the club, as he probably always did. His skin was glistening with sweat now and he looked a little pained – but also determined.

"Good," Arthur said.

And move, Alfred did. Slowly, ever so slowly, he rose off Arthur. The loss of that heat made Arthur whine, though he quickly cut himself off. But it wasn't gone for long as Alfred dropped down onto him just as quickly as before. Arthur moaned at the sensation, letting his head fall back. His hips bucked again, just slightly, but it was enough to have Alfred moan as well.

Soon, they had gotten into a rhythm, Alfred quickening his rise until it almost matched the rate of his drop. Arthur's hips still twitched and bucked every time he sheathed himself on Arthur's cock. The heat pressed around Arthur. Their skin slapped against each other, the release of Arthur's pre-cum making squelching sounds which were deliciously lewd. Breathing laboured, they both moaned, Arthur louder than Alfred. He could feel the building pleasure, wanted nothing more than to speed them up, drive himself over the edge. Trapped as he was, he was completely at the mercy of Alfred who ignored his inarticulate pleading.

"Please," Arthur was saying, almost constantly. "More. God, Alfred, so tight. Just... Just squeeze. Come on. You're so good. Please."

"No..." panted Alfred. "Not yet. I want... I want to... see your tattoos."

"Huh?"

Instead of explaining, Alfred abruptly pulled himself from Arthur's cock with a squelching pop. Horrified at the loss, Arthur cried out, his hips involuntarily bucking into the air. "Don't worry," Alfred attempted to soothe him. "I'll get back on. First, you need to let me sit you up."

Crawling around him, Alfred ended up sitting next to Arthur, his legs curled to the side. Arthur's eyes were momentarily drawn to Alfred's crotch, realising that he'd been so caught up in his pleasure that he hadn't looked at Alfred's cock. But, before he could properly take a look, Alfred's hands held onto Arthur's hips tightly and pushed. It hurt Arthur's shoulders for a moment and he winced in pain until he quickly bent his elbows. That helped and, soon, Alfred had slid Arthur back and up till he was sitting with the pillows caught between the small of his back and the headboard. His arms, with some manoeuvring, were now behind Arthur, still cuffed to the ring. The jeans around his legs still kept him from moving too well, as if his legs had been tied down as well.

In no time at all, Arthur found himself with a lapful of Alfred. His partner for the evening was quick to position Arthur's cock correctly and shove himself down, taking Arthur all the way once more. The new angle had Arthur gasping at the tightness but his noises were stolen as Alfred kissed him again. Moving with Alfred, they swiftly regained their rhythm. Their mouths moulded against each other every so often but, mostly, their lips brushed as they attempted to kiss, failing as they panted and grunted.

"Your tattoos," Alfred said at one point, his hands running along them. "They're gorgeous."

"Thanks," Arthur breathed, his voice a little strained. He was starting to get close...

"Want to mark you, too." Alfred sounded almost out of his mind with pleasure and Arthur's cock twitched within him as he realised that _he_ was the cause of that.

"Mm," Arthur responded and tilted his head to one side.

Pleased, Alfred dipped down to quickly press his lips to Arthur's before he shifted and pressed the flat of his tongue on Arthur's arm, running it the length of the pirate's body and across the compass. As he did so, he wriggled in Arthur's lap, making Arthur groan. Without warning, Alfred began to move faster, almost impossibly so.

Arthur's mouth fell open as he was fucked, his entire length constantly ensnared with Alfred's warmth. The drag, the friction, was glorious and it began to coax Arthur towards his climax. Unable to make a noise, Arthur listened to the slapping of skin, so fast it was almost all one single, lewd noise. Squelching sounds were added to the mix. His arms wanted to wrap around Alfred; instead, his movements made the pain mingle with the pleasure. It wasn't quite enough – he needed something a little more painful than that...

Suddenly, Alfred rose from his position licking and kissing Arthur's neck, trailing his lips along his jugular. He pulled away slightly so they could look at each other. Having trouble focussing, Arthur dazedly blinked at him. Alfred's eyes were glowing again, more so than beforehand. His gaze was intense and Arthur found himself drawn to it. He was unable to look away as Alfred spoke.

"Are you ready to come?" Alfred asked.

All Arthur could do was stare back and moan out a long, drawn-out, " _Fuck!_ "

"Awesome," said Alfred.

And, just as suddenly as he'd stopped, Alfred started back up again. With that impossibly fast pace, Arthur could only let out an open-mouthed groan, his head falling further back to expose his neck. Instantly, Alfred moved in, his lips and teeth scraping along Arthur's neck. Arthur's breath caught in his throat as he waited, _hoped_ , for Alfred's teeth to sink into his skin, to suck a mark on his neck, a little tattoo to match his permanent ones. So he was pleased when he felt it happen, pleasure pooling in his gut. Heart hammering, he let his eyes flutter closed, relaxing into the intense pleasure.

Strangely, a couple of Alfred's teeth were more pointed than Arthur would have thought...

The pace picked up again, almost superhuman now. Arthur couldn't concentrate on what was happening. There was only the heat and tightness and friction and pleasure around his cock; the stinging pain in his wrists; Alfred's hands keeping a tight grip on his arms to keep him steady; the pressure of Alfred's teeth.

Sudden intense pain in his neck.

Twined with pleasure.

Hips moved, sunk deep into that fleshy warmth.

Mouth open, wordless scream.

Arthur came.

* * *

At first, Arthur was too tired to think. He tried to turn over only to realise that both his arms and legs were trapped. Were his friends sleeping on top of him again? It wouldn't be the first time. He stilled, suppressing a groan.

Once he felt able to run through the events of the night before, Arthur opened his eyes and turned his head. He winced: not only were the curtains partially open, letting sunlight flood in, his neck and shoulders twinged in pain. Thankfully, as he shifted to relieve it, he could feel that he hadn't had sex in the club's toilet or something. Or, at least, not taken it up the arse. Eventually, the lancing pain in his head subsided to just a throbbing and he looked around, wondering whose home they were in.

That was when he started to panic.

None of the furniture (old, huge items) looked familiar. The bed was much larger than anything he or his trio of friends owned. Its soft mattress and pillows did not help to reduce the alarm – especially when he turned his head to and fro and found no evidence of a sexual partner. Craning his neck back (and wincing at the pain), he focussed his eyes and found that he was handcuffed to a ring embedded in the wall. Whoever put him here had done this before...

Just as he was looking down the length of his body to take in the jeans still stuck to his skin, the door opened. He flinched as he watched the most beautiful man he had ever seen walk in.

Memories resurfaced, as if he was watching something on a fuzzy TV screen.

"Al-?" Arthur broke off to cough, throat sore from the screaming he had done the night before. "Alfred? What's going on? Why haven't you uncuffed me?"

Smiling, Alfred sidled around the edge of the room, keeping to the shadows. Halfway along, the bed sent that side of the room into shadows entirely and he stepped across to sit on the bed. He reached out and stroked Arthur's hair, a comforting sensation that had Arthur's eyes fluttering.

"Because I'm not gonna let you go."

Arthur's eyes flew open. "What? What are you talking about? This isn't funny, Alfred."

"Mm. That's why I'm serious." Alfred's smile grew into a grin – one with sharp fangs that had Arthur shrinking away in horror. "I wanted you for a pet the moment I saw you. It was lucky you were on your own – it's harder to... _enchant_ more people at once to follow me."

"Th-That-"

"Listen, Arthur. You're going to stay here, in this house – for the rest of your life. Maybe even longer." Alfred paused to chuckle.

"You sick fucker!" Arthur exclaimed, his heart racing. He jerked at his handcuffs and tried to wriggle away from Alfred. His eyes were wide as Alfred only grinned at him, clearly waiting for him to stop. "What do you _want_ from me?!"

"Well, your blood's a start," said Alfred, leaning closer till his mouth was hovering over Arthur's arm, close to his mythological tattoo. "Sex, too. Even if I can't get truly hard or come without your blood. Which is what this all boils down to." Alfred paused and straightened a little. "Mostly."

Remembering the pain in his neck, Arthur shuddered. Surely this was some kind of joke, though? "I..."

Rolling his eyes at Arthur's expression, Alfred said, "I'm a vampire, Arthur. And I'm a little lonely. So you'll be my pet."

Terrified, dismayed, angry, Arthur glared at him. "And when you get bored of me?"

"I never get bored of my pets," Alfred told him. "At least, so far. This is a recent hobby for me. I just... I just got so lonely." Startled, Arthur watched as Alfred's eyes shone, but not from his vampiric powers – rather, it seemed like he was holding back tears. "It's been centuries. I-" Alfred cleared his throat and leaned away from Arthur to grin at him. "Don't worry – when I go out for food, you won't be lonely, either. All my pets will make sure you have what you need and you'll do the same for them.

Arthur didn't like the sound of that. It was almost as if Alfred was saying that he would have to have sex with people he didn't know. "You're... You're just going to keep me chained up?"

"Oh, no," said Alfred, waving his hand dismissively. "I'll take the handcuffs off sooner or later – I just need to make sure you'll stay put."

"And... And how do you plan to do that?" asked Arthur in a small voice, his eyes wider than ever. He _really_ didn't like the sound of _that_.

"You'll like it," said Alfred, his grin seeming to sharpen. "It'll be much the same as last night. But first, I'm craving some blood."

"W-Wait! No!" cried Arthur but there was nothing he could do. He watched as Alfred, the man who seemed as if he could help Arthur forget about his heartache in the loud club, dipped down, opened his mouth wide and bit into Arthur's tattoo, blood flowing freely. "Please," Arthur whispered, tears threatening to fall. "Let me..." And he sank into the strange trance-like state from the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's other 'pets' are Ivan, Feliciano, his brother Lovino who came looking for him, Ludwig, Matthew (who was probably a descendant but Alfred wasn't sure and didn't care) and Roderich.
> 
> You can decide whether Francis and the others go looking for Arthur. If they do, though, they definitely get caught, too...
> 
> Arthur is stuck there until Alfred makes him a vampire and all his vampire enchantments wear off. Arthur is furious. But he keeps turning up at their house after he knocks down a wall to leave... (Kiku ends up being his first victim.)
> 
> Or something like that, anyways...


	2. <Good End>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of this one is pretty much the same as the Bad End one but it diverges just after Alfred turns up.

Whenever Arthur thought of heartbreak, he imagined a traditional lovey-dovey heart broken in two with a jagged line. Or, if it was severe enough, perhaps broken in three in such a way that it would be difficult to know how to piece it back together again. Either way, with enough care and attention, Arthur always thought of a heart as being mostly fixable.

So he didn't expect his heart to completely shatter when his perfect boyfriend revealed that he was leaving him for a hot, Greek man that he'd been with while he dated Arthur.

"How could he?!" Arthur wailed for likely the hundredth time. He hadn't been counting, even less so now that he was seated at a bar, drinking.

He was lucky to have such amazing friends. Francis, Gilbert and Antonio had turned up at his flat after only one week of his despair and lonely movie nights, trying to push the depressing thoughts aside. Instead of hugs and sympathies like they'd offered the week before, they'd insisted on him dressing up to go out ("No, no, Arthur! Wear something which shows off your tattoos – much more enticing, if you know what I mean"). Once he'd been convinced to leave the sanctuary of his own home, he had tried to lead them to the nearest bar. Unfortunately, there were protests ("No way! The beer in there is awful! We gotta go somewhere better") and they had taken a taxi to the other side of town. When they reached a club ("No, Arthur. A club will be much more fun than a bar! And we're here to cheer you up, after all") that Arthur had never been to before, he'd been ushered in. Thankfully, the bar was separated from the dance floor by a wall of soundproofed glass; patrons were able to watch the dancers while still being able to hear each other chatting over the bassy beats of the music.

At first, Arthur had attempted to have a good time. Then he'd drunk enough for him to forget where they were. Now, he was nursing his pint glass and fighting back tears as he stared at Francis with wide eyes. " _How_ _could he_?" he whispered, his hand shaking as he lifted the glass to take a large gulp.

"I don't know, Arthur," said Francis, kindly. He placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "No-one should have to experience this, least of all you."

"Yeah!" said Gilbert from his other side. "He's clearly missing out. Now, forget about him and come dance!"

Antonio leaned around him, giving Arthur a bright smile. "You never know, maybe you'll find your One True Love."

"In a club?" Gilbert scoffed. "You can't find One True Loves in a club. One True Lust, maybe, but not  _Loves_ ."

"Oh, God," groaned Arthur upon hearing their little aside. "He... He broke up with me and I... I still..." Quickly, he bit his lip but that didn't stop tears escaping. Desperately, he rubbed at his eyes, hoping none of his friends would notice.

Unfortunately, he wasn't being completely subtle and they did, in fact, notice. "Arthur," Francis said, firmly, "stop moping and come with us to the dance floor. Let loose. Dance."

"Footloose," Gilbert sang, as if that might encourage Arthur.

Sending him a weak glare, Arthur shook his head. "I don't feel like dancing. The music's giving me a headache."

"No, it's not," said Francis. "That's just the alcohol."

"We should get him some water," Antonio piped up before he darted down the bar to attract the bartender's attention.

"I don't  _want_ water," Arthur grumbled, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep himself from snapping at his wonderful friends. "I just... I really just want to be alone..."

"Isn't that the reason for you moping?" asked Gilbert, eyebrow raised. "You need to smile, laugh, dance. Come  _on_ , Arthur, that's why we're here and not in that crappy bar you drag us to when we're hanging out at your place."

"I thought we were here for the good booze."

"That, too," Gilbert agreed.

"But mostly to get you to have fun," Francis said. "No more ice cream." He paused for a moment. "We should probably cut you off from the alcohol but you do amusing things when you're drunk so I think we'll just ply you with more."

"Thanks," grunted Arthur.

"So, get off that stool. Come down to the dance floor with us and forget about everyone else. Have fun. Laugh. Make a fool of yourself." Francis squeezed Arthur's shoulder. "You'll feel better afterwards."

"Unless you have a hangover in the morning," quipped Antonio as he returned with a glass of water. He pressed it into Arthur's hands with a stern look.

Rolling his eyes at him, Arthur took a sip. As he swallowed his mouthful, he considered his options. He really didn't want to dance. Or find a One True Lust. He really just wanted to go home. But, if he did that, he knew the other three would cut their night short. With a sigh, he set down the glass and turned to them.

"I don't feel like dancing _just now_ ," he told them. "Let me drink a bit more and I'll be ready to dance."

"Hm," said Francis, giving him a Look that Arthur knew meant 'I don't think this is a good idea'.

"Well, I don't mind drinking more," Gilbert declared, grinning. "I think I'll get another-"

"You three should go dance," Arthur interrupted him. "Don't let me ruin your night."

"No way!" Antonio protested. "We came here with you for a reason. There's no point if we-"

"Tonio," said Arthur. "The three of you are crowding me. Go dance and whatever else you want to do. I'll join you in a little while. You don't need to worry about me – I'll just be here."

For a while, it seemed as though they wouldn't listen. All three of them exchanged glances, frowning and raising eyebrows as if they were communicating. Knowing them as well as he did, Arthur figured they were. Finally, Francis sighed and turned to him. "Fine. We'll go. But don't think this will get you out of dancing, young man." He wagged a finger at Arthur, downed the last of his cocktail and stalked off to the door into the club proper, hips swaying.

"Yeah," agreed Gilbert. "I wanna see you grind against someone." He grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Arthur grimaced at him. "I will _not_ -" he began but Antonio interrupted him by pushing Gilbert aside.

"Don't listen to him," he said. "You said once you wanted to learn how to tango – I've got to show you that, you know!"

"Here?" said Arthur, incredulously. "How the hell are we supposed to dance a tango with _this_ music?"

"No objections!" Antonio happily declared before he turned and pushed Gilbert along with him to catch up with Francis.

Shaking his head at his friends, Arthur turned back to the two drinks on the bar. He had the option of drinking water and sobering up a little or finishing off his beer. It didn't take that long to decide as an image of a concerned Kiku giving him some water and painkillers for a hangover popped into his head. After rubbing at his eyes to force the tears away, Arthur grabbed the beer and downed the rest of it. Once he'd finished, he waved to the bartender and asked for another.

His heart still pained him, as if it had physically been broken into little pieces. Would it be just as painful to pick them up and put them back together again? He certainly hurt thinking of moving on from Kiku. After all, he'd realised since he'd lost Kiku that he'd been in love, that he was still in love. Would he always love him? Would this pain plague him forever?

Over the years they'd been together, Arthur had tried his best to show Kiku he loved him. He'd given him roses and other flowers. Every gift he gave Kiku was carefully considered and plucked from passing comments. Whenever he saw Kiku, he gave the man a peck on the cheek and a welcoming smile. Fear had stopped him voicing his feelings: Arthur thought that, had he done so, it would have hurt more deeply when Kiku revealed what he'd been up to.

Strangely, he couldn't think of an occasion where he should have been suspicious. Kiku was perfect. He was kind and careful and understanding of Arthur's needs. His voice was soft and he wasn't loud like the rest of Arthur's friends. Kiku would have hated the club. And Arthur would have acquiesced and taken him home by now, taken him to bed and gently made love to him. Or, if he had been feeling ill, he would have given him a massage as he often did for Arthur and made him soup and-

Suddenly realising that he was crying again, he slammed his half empty glass on the counter and buried his face in his hands to rub at his eyes, willing himself to stop, to stop thinking about him.

"Hey, man, are you okay?"

Startling at the voice, Arthur spun on his stool, looking up with wide, tear-filled eyes. A tall, young man was standing there, worried expression clear on his face. With the – thankfully – better lighting in the bar, Arthur could see that he had blond hair, a little tuft sticking up having obviously resisted combing. His skin was tanned and smooth and, frankly, looked like tempting caramel. Eyes glittered as they watched him but Arthur couldn't quite make out the colour behind his rectangular glasses as he averted his gaze, stupidly worried that the man would catch sight of his tears. Instead, Arthur took in the Star Wars glow-in-the-dark t-shirt, the blue shining on the black as a Jedi Knight wielded their lightsaber. A pair of dark jeans and a pair of black Converse completed his ensemble: the man looked more suited for a night in than a night on the town.

Still, Arthur couldn't judge him on that. With his tear-stained, red face, Arthur probably didn't look ready for a party, either. So Arthur rubbed at his eyes and frowned up at the man, still not quite looking him in the eye. "I'm fine," he said, shortly.

"Ya don't look fine," the man commented. "Here," he added, reaching forward to pluck the abandoned glass of water from its place on the counter. "You should probably drink this."

Annoyed, Arthur pushed the glass towards the man, his frown deepening. "No. You can have it. It's not mine."

"Really?" The man gave Arthur a sceptical look. "'Cause it's sitting right in front of you."

"It's my friend's," Arthur said, primly, hoping that would discourage him.

"I reckon you should drink it," said the man, frowning down at Arthur. "You look terrible."

"Thanks."

Upon seeing Arthur's unimpressed look, the man frantically waved his hands. "No! I didn't mean it like that! You don't look _that_ bad. I just mean... There are a lot of empty glasses. And you're crying... Are you okay?"

"Please just leave me alone," Arthur told him, unable to muster the energy to snap at him. He turned away from him and hoped he'd actually do as he asked this time.

Unfortunately, the man seemed unable to take a hint. Movement out of the corner of Arthur's eye showed him that he had chosen to sit on the empty stool beside him. Arthur tried to ignore him, pretending the bar was full and that just happened to be the only seat for a lonely guy to sit at. But he couldn't delude himself for much longer as the man turned to him and spoke again.

"My name's Alfred. I'm here with my friends to celebrate my cousin's boyfriend's birthday. You're not on your own, are ya?"

"No," Arthur replied, almost without thinking. Curiously, he looked along the bar as surreptitiously as he could but saw no-one, just the bartender cleaning a glass, staring intently at it. "My friends are here, too."

"Oh?" Alfred made a show of looking around which was rather comical; Arthur resisted smiling on principal. "Where are they?"

"I sent them to the dance floor. I didn't want to ruin their night..."

"Hey, now!" Alfred exclaimed. "If they knew you were here crying, I doubt they'd mind having to sit at the bar with ya till ya felt better."

"They already know," Arthur explained, frowning when Alfred looked shocked. "But I made them leave me. They've... They've put up with my crying a lot this week."

For a second, Arthur didn't realise what he'd let slip. However, Alfred was quick to pounce on it, eyes still wide. "What happened?"

Arthur hesitated. Did he really want to tell this complete stranger anything to do with his love life? Then again, the man seemed adamant to hang around until he found out what was wrong with him. What _was_ wrong with him, sitting in a club, crying over his boy- an ex? His heart ached again and the alcohol he'd already consumed thrummed through his body; telling Alfred suddenly seemed like a good idea.

"Bad break-up," he said, still a little wary about the man. Alfred could be anyone, after all. He could be a stalker or some other foul person.

"Oh, man," said Alfred, wincing. "Sorry. I've been there."

"Really?" said Arthur, dryly.

"Sure. When I was in high school, I was on a few of the sports teams. One of the guys asked me out and I was stoked that he did since, y'know, I was totally into him. We dated for, like, six months in secret 'cause his dad would've been mad and we'd heard horror stories about high school sports teams being horrible for, y'know, us." Alfred pulled a face and Arthur completely understood despite not being a hundred percent interested in the story and sorely needing a drink. "Anyways, we lost our virginity and the guy broke up with me 'cause he'd gotten what he'd wanted. I was devastated. Thought it was the end of the world."

"Sounds suitably tragic," said Arthur with a sigh. Looking at the empty beer glasses and the full glass of water, Arthur leaned forward and waved at the bartender. "I suppose it was a good lesson, though – don't trust anyone with your heart."

"Aw, c'mon, don't say that! I had a nice girlfriend when I got into college. Even if she was a little scarily bossy. That one was a mutual break-up. How did yours go?"

Not really wanting to relive it, Arthur turned his attention the bartender and ordered another beer. While the man made his way back to the pumps, Arthur leaned back a little and spotted Alfred watching him from out the corner of his eye. "What?" he asked.

"Yours..." said Alfred, sounding a little hesitant. "Yours was worse than mine, right?"

Arthur snorted. "Of course. He brought his boyfriend to the occasion."

"Holy cow," breathed Alfred, eyes wide once again. "Who _does_ that? Just... Shit, I'm sorry, man. You didn't deserve that."

Amused, Arthur eyed Alfred. "Really? You don't even know me. Who's to say I didn't?"

"Nobody does. And you're real nice. I mean, you're chatting to me now, right, instead of sending me away?"

"That... That doesn't really prove anything," muttered Arthur, squirming on his stool. He was relieved that the barman returned at that moment and placed his glass on the counter. As he pulled out a note, he paused. "Could you bring something for... my acquaintance here, too?"

"You're gonna buy me a drink?!" Alfred exclaimed. He looked far too ecstatic for just one drink and Arthur's lips twitched in amusement. When he gave Alfred a nod, the man looked thoughtful for a second. Brightening up, he declared, "I'll have a French Martini!"

Raising an eyebrow at that, Arthur handed over the appropriate money and the bartender wandered off to mix the drink. "Really?" he said, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Yup!" said Alfred, grinning at him. "They're tasty. Anyways, it's nice to see you smiling – kinda."

Letting his smirk fall, Arthur frowned at his beer. "Hm," he murmured and took a sip.

There was a brief silence, filled with the thumping bass of the song playing in the dance area. Alfred was the one to break it. "I bet that guy isn't half as good as you, y'know. The new boyfriend, I mean."

Mood souring, Arthur shook his head and took a large gulp of his beer. "No. He's Greek. You know: olive skin; tall; glossy, curly hair; gentle; loves cats as much as my- Kiku. _He's_ perfect. Kiku's perfect. They're probably perfect together and I'm just..."

"Just as perfect, if not more," Alfred interjected, sternly.

"You don't know that."

"I do!" insisted Alfred. "I mean, you're not the one who cheated on your boyfriend – and you think _he's_ perfect. So, if you're better than... Keek-oo or whatever his name is, you're even more perfect than him."

It took a moment for Alfred's little speech to sink in. Once it did, Arthur felt his chest loosen a little, the pain seeping away slightly. In fact, his heart seemed to warm a little and he couldn't help smiling at Alfred, bemused. "You really don't know that," Arthur told him. "Maybe I was cheating on him, too, and I'm just upset to lose one of my-"

"Nope!" Alfred declared, almost knocking his glass out of the bartender's hand. He quickly apologised and waited for the man to leave before returning to his declaration. "You wouldn't do that."

"How do _you_ know?"

"I just do. It's, like, a gut feeling," Alfred said proudly before taking a sip of his drink.

Glancing at Alfred's t-shirt, Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What, like the Force?" he asked, a little disdainfully. He just couldn't understand why this man would think he was some sort of saint – he'd been short with him to begin with. And, now that he thought about it, he hadn't even told him his name.

"Totally!" Alfred said before he could properly introduce himself. "The Force is real, dude."

Amused, Arthur found himself smiling, even if it was only a small one. "So you're saying that Darth Vader could choke people with the power of his gut?"

"Yeah!" Alfred was grinning which drew Arthur's eye to the thin layer of foam which covered his upper lip. That amused him even more and he had to purse his lips together in order to rein in a laugh. "The gut is a very powerful Force, y'know."

Unable to think of an intellectual response to that, Arthur merely said, "You're ridiculous."

"And you're actually smiling – it's pretty."

Arthur sucked in a breath, startled by the comment. His heart did an odd thing where it fluttered and clenched and seemed to swell all at once. It was way too soon for him to entertain thoughts for anyone but Kiku, in his opinion – even if he had been dumped. And Kiku clearly had no intentions of returning to him. So he was on his own and free to do as he liked. Shaking his head to clear away his thoughts, Arthur turned to Alfred and held out his hand.

"I've not actually introduced myself. I'm Arthur Ki-"

He was interrupted with a loud laugh. "Dude, you totally don't need to be so formal. But, Arthur, huh? It's a cool name. Suits you."

Again, Arthur couldn't stop his lips from twitching up into a smile. "Your foam moustache suits you, too."

It was incredibly funny to see Alfred's eyes widen, his cheeks blooming with colour. Hurriedly, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ah, er," he said once he'd gotten most of it off. There was a tiny bit at the corner which Arthur stared at, wondering if he should mention it or if he should leave Alfred alone.

"Um," Arthur said once he'd made a decision. "You still have a..." He gestured, raising his right hand to wiggle his finger at the corner of his mouth.

"Ah." Alfred was quick to raise his own right hand to wipe it away. Unfortunately, the foam was at the left side.

"No, it's..." Arthur reached out to him but hesitated. He was thankful he did that as Alfred jerked his hand across to rub at his mouth. Letting his hand drop, Arthur wasn't sure why he had almost done something that required a sense of familiarity with a person. In the face of his confusion, Arthur quickly gulped down some beer in the hope he could forget about it.

"Thanks," said Alfred with a surprisingly shy smile.

They fell into silence, sipping at their drinks. Arthur thought about continuing the conversation but he wasn't sure as to what to say. Should he stay put and wait for Alfred to inevitably say something? He seemed the type to break silences. Or should he go find his friends? His conversation with Alfred had loosened up a knot of grief and anger and dismay; he felt as if he could stand to be on the dance floor for a little bit, even if he wasn't terribly good at dancing.

Before he could come to a decision, someone called on Alfred and both of them looked around, Arthur in curiosity. Alfred slid off his stool as someone approached. The person was another blond-haired man, his hair a little curlier than Alfred's, one such curl having escaped the rest to bounce as he moved. His spectacles were rounder and he was wearing a wine red shirt and black trousers. Otherwise, he looked exactly the same as Alfred. Arthur gaped, his brain slowly providing the conclusion that this was Alfred's aforementioned cousin.

"Mattie!" Alfred exclaimed, holding his arms open as if he anticipated a hug. "What's up?"

Instead of embracing Alfred, Mattie frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "Have you been at the bar all this time?"

"Uh, yeah, I told you I was-"

"That was _ages_ ago, Al! Do you know how worried I was? _Anything_ could have happened to you!"

Biting his lip, Arthur shifted on his seat, considering slipping away to find his own friends. Surely one of them should have come back by now... Then again, if it had been Francis and he saw him talking to Alfred, it was highly likely that he simply left them in peace so that Arthur could 'get laid', one of his suggestions earlier in the week. But something kept him on his stool – and it wasn't the beer. Mattie's eyes flicked to him when he reached to pick up his glass and Arthur almost flinched under his suspicious gaze. Thankfully, Alfred drew Mattie's attention away with another of his loud laughs.

"Dude, it's not as if I'm gonna get seduced by, like, a vampire or something and taken away to its lair. I'm _fine_."

"There may not be vampires," Mattie pointed out, "but you could get drugged and still be kidnapped that way. How are you so sure no-one's put anything in your drink?" He sent a pointed look over Alfred's shoulder at Arthur who froze with his glass pressed against his lower lip.

Alfred stepped in front of Mattie's line of sight. "Dude, not cool," he said, sounding stern. "It's not like that. And I've been looking at him this whole time and he didn't-"

"There's this thing called ' _sleight of hand_ ', Alfred. You could be looking at him and-"

"I was crying," Arthur found himself saying, his glass still hovering near his mouth. He paused when he realised what he'd done and squinted down at his drink for a brief moment. When he looked back up, Alfred had half turned and looked surprised; clearly Arthur hadn't given the impression that he was the kind of person to freely give out embarrassing information to strangers. Mattie looked perplexed as well as a little concerned. "I-I was crying," Arthur tried to clarify. "And, um, Alfred... he..."

"Ah," said Mattie as Arthur trailed off. "Al saw you and decided to play hero again." He rounded on his cousin. "I've told you not to butt in on-"

"It's not like that!" Alfred protested. "Shouldn't you be with Ivan?" he hastily added.

Pursing his lips, Mattie looked between the two of them. Arthur only met his gaze once before lowering it again, swirling the last mouthful of beer around his glass. "Fine," he said at last. "I'll see you later. Don't leave without telling us where you're going."

Silence fell, as much as it could with the thumping music in the other room. There was movement beside Arthur as Alfred sat on his stool. Arthur set his glass down, the remaining beer still gathered at the bottom, impossible to see from the foam coating the inside of the glass. The bartender walked by to fetch something then strode past once more, glancing briefly in their direction.

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Alfred turn to him again, clearly over any embarrassment over his cousin's interruption. Arthur looked at him without turning his head, raising an eyebrow in question. "Hey," Alfred said, rather quietly for his loud personality.

"Hey," Arthur replied, quickly fishing for something else to say, something to perk Alfred up. "That was your cousin?" was the only thing to escape his mouth and he tried not to cringe at how awful that sounded.

"Yeah." Alfred nodded and took a quick gulp of his cocktail. "Our moms are identical twins and then we came along, heh. There are a lot of differences, though. The big one is probably that I tan and Mattie just becomes a lobster."

Arthur snorted at that and quickly turned it into a cough. He turned on his stool slightly, though, and was just in time to see Alfred's bright grin. "Do you live close to each other?" he asked, thinking of his own family with a pang of sadness that wiped the smile from his face.

"Yeah!" said Alfred, cheerfully, oblivious to Arthur's emotions. "We actually happened to get into the same college. Final year!" And he flashed Arthur the peace sign. Or, in this case, the victory sign.

Smile strained, Arthur nodded. "My family..." he said and hesitated.

Apparently noticing that Arthur was struggling, Alfred turned a little more to frown at him. "Your family?" he prompted.

"Is in England," Arthur finished. "I, um, haven't seen them in a while. We're... not on the best terms. I doubt they'd care if I was abducted by a vampire." Alfred gave a short laugh at that and it made Arthur smile. He turned towards Alfred a little more and narrowed his eyes, smirking slightly. "Speaking of which, that wasn't just for show was it?"

"Huh?" Alfred looked bewildered now, completely confounded.

"You weren't just acting a scene with your cousin, were you? You're not actually a vampire, hm?"

A few seconds went by as Alfred blinked at him. Then he grinned, raising his hands and forming 'claws' with them. "If I was, would you let me drink your blood?" he asked, trying to fake an accent and horribly failing.

Biting his lip to keep from laughing, Arthur shook his head. "Why, you could do anything to me while you're drinking my blood," he said, making himself sound more prim and proper.

"Boo!" Alfred complained, pouting. He pretended to draw up a cloak to hide behind and that was what broke Arthur.

He laughed. Quickly slapping his hand over his mouth so as not to disturb anyone, he rocked back and forth on his stool, trying desperately to calm himself down. When was the last time he had laughed like this? Like the laughter had erupted from him? Arthur... honestly couldn't remember. He'd never laughed like that with Kiku; it was all reserved chuckles and quiet sniggers.

It took him some time to calm down and, once he had, it was too find Alfred staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. "W-What?" he asked, his voice a little scratchy. He cleared it and quickly gulped down the last of his beer. Waving down the bartender (who raised a finger to indicate he'd be there soon), he turned back to Alfred to find him smiling. " _What_?"

"Just... Wow. You're so..."

"So...?"

"Beautiful, I suppose."

"Eh?!" Arthur exclaimed, his own eyes widening. He could feel himself blushing and hoped he'd drunk enough that it wasn't visible.

"Heh," said Alfred, shyly grinning and rubbing the back of his head.

They both fell into silence then, Arthur unable to think of a response. Eventually, the bartender appeared and Arthur felt a wave of relief flood through him. "Same aga-" he began only to be interrupted by Alfred.

"Ah, no, no, no! You totally need to get a cocktail. Have more fun!" Alfred turned to the bartender with a grin. "Bring him a Sex on the Beach," he told him. "I'll pay. Ah, and, one for me, too!"

"Wha-? Hey!" Arthur exclaimed. "You can't just-"

"C'mon, Artie! Cocktails are _guaranteed_ to cheer you up!"

Hesitating, Arthur ducked his head. "Fine," he grumbled. "But don't call me 'Artie'. It's... strange." That was mostly because of Kiku, though, Arthur realised. Kiku only ever called him Arthur-kun, clinging to the Japanese honorific as a cutesy 'nickname'. Arthur supposed it was a step up from his 'Arthur-san'.

Everything about their relationship had been so formal, Arthur suddenly realised.

He didn't know how to feel about that.

When he raised his head, Arthur found that Alfred had concluded business with the barman and the bloke had wandered off to make the drinks. Alfred turned to him just as Arthur looked towards him, grinning. The grin slipped a little when he caught sight of Arthur's expression, whatever it was. Quickly looking away, Arthur tried to force himself to school his face into something resembling neutrality.

"Can I ask ya something?" asked Alfred, gaining Arthur's attention again.

"Hm?" Arthur didn't trust himself to say anything more.

"What's that, on your arm?"

Blinking, Arthur looked down at where Alfred was pointing. He was quick to realise that Alfred was talking about his tattoo. For a moment, he hesitated: it had been some time since he'd openly shown off his half-sleeves. Would Alfred be put off by them? Or would he be all the more interested?

"Oh," he said. "Well... It's..." Seeing Alfred's curious, eager gaze, Arthur relented. "I'll just show you," he said and rolled up the t-shirt sleeve to reveal it.

Curling around his bicep was a collection of images interspersed by green leaves and thorny stems. A unicorn reared on its hind legs, horn pointing towards a fiery bird above it. The phoenix had its wings spread with its head raised in song. Below them, a fairy flitted through the leaves, shimmering wings inked on in detail. Her dress was pink and she wore a flower crown over her brown hair which flowed behind her. Arthur raised his arm and turned it so that Alfred could see the rest of it: a centaur galloping through the forest of leaves, bow strung and drawn, his abs painstakingly detailed. Below all of them and curled around below the vegetation was a mermaid, her tail blue and her blonde hair spread by the water, encroaching on the leaves.

"They end in roses on my shoulder," Arthur added, tapping at where his sleeves refused to move further. "They go across my shoulder before dipping down onto my shoulder blade."

"Wow!" Alfred's eyes were wide with awe. "That's amazing."

"I've got one on this arm, too," Arthur told him. He used the counter to spin himself around, grimacing a little when a sense of dizziness swept through him. Once he had recovered, he rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt and showed off the other tattoo.

Instead of a flowing, interconnected half-sleeve, this one featured a pirate captain. The man had black hair curling around his chin and tanned skin, weather-beaten and scarred. A large black hat with a red feather sweeping backwards sat atop his head. He had his hand resting lightly upon it as if to prevent it blowing off. His coat was black with red highlights which covered his white shirt, black vest, black breeches and large, black boots. A wide belt held a pistol and cutlass. With his other hand, the pirate captain held onto some rigging, his coat billowing out around him, and, with an incredible use of perspective, the deck of the ship could be seen below.

Lifting his arm once again, Arthur showed Alfred the other side. There, a massive skull-and-crossbones took up half of his arm. The black and white inking had taken some time and had been the most painful for Arthur – possibly because he had had trouble holding his arm in the particular position for long enough. Beneath it, a chest full of treasure sat, its lid open to reveal the gold and gems.

"There's a compass on my shoulder blade," Arthur said as he lowered his arm again.

"Cool!" exclaimed Alfred, reaching out to steady Arthur as he turned back around. "How come you're not wearing a vest top or something? You could show off your tattoos then."

Grimacing, Arthur shook his head. "I don't own one of them."

"You should. You'd look even hotter than you do now."

Arthur had been in the process of finishing off his beer when Alfred said that. He gasped and was soon coughing violently as he choked. Harsh slaps to his back helped him out a little but he was left gasping afterwards, a hand still rubbing at his back as he tried to catch his breath. When he'd recovered enough, Arthur sent Alfred a small smile and noted how worried Alfred looked.

"Are you okay?!" Alfred cried, pushing the glass of water towards Arthur. When Arthur pulled a disgusted face at it, Alfred pursed his lips and pushed it more insistently towards him. "Drink it," he ordered.

Sighing, Arthur did as he was told, taking a long swig. It did soothe his throat but he was more grateful when the bartender reappeared with the two cocktails they had order. He immediately took that and had a sip of it, making a pleased humming sound at the taste. "Thank you," he said to both the barman and Alfred.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Alfred asked, his brow still furrowed with worry.

"I'm fine," said Arthur, a little hoarsely.

"Really?"

"Honestly," Arthur assured him.

"Okay." They both sipped their drinks then, their conversation stalled. Arthur couldn't stop himself from glancing at Alfred, sometimes catching Alfred's eye before he glanced away. Alfred spoke up after a few moments. "So, do you always cover up your tattoos?"

"When I'm not showering," Arthur said with a small smirk. Alfred grinned back.

"But when you're out and about, you do?" he asked.

Shrugging, Arthur said, "It's become habit, I suppose. I worked in my father's business for a while and it was all suits. When I got here, I got a job in a local florist – which is still a nice enough job – but I don't want customers getting scared of a 'thug' with tattoos serving them."

"Hm. Did that Keek-oo person ever ask you to cover them up, too?"

Confused as to why Alfred was bringing him up (and to why the pain had dulled from earlier in the evening), Arthur shook his head. "No. I mean, he didn't much care either way whether I had tattoos or not." Pausing, a sudden memory, sharp with hurt and shame, came unbidden to Arthur's mind and he grimaced. "Ah. There was this one time..."

"Ha! Thought so!" Alfred declared, looking quite smug with himself.

Arthur frowned. "His parents were just getting over him being gay and they were visiting us. He didn't want them getting upset about my tattoos, as well."

"If _I_ had been your boyfriend, I'd 'ave shown them off," Alfred asserted. "Shown _you_ off."

Startled, Arthur's eyes widened. He stared at Alfred, watching him sip his drink. Alfred's cheeks were red and he had a small, fond smile on his lips. Somehow, Arthur found him pretty. Heart squeezing at his thoughts, Arthur sought a conversation topic to distract himself.

"So, um, you're here with your cousin – do you have any siblings?"

"Nah," Alfred answered, turning back to Arthur eagerly. It was like watching a puppy being called on, tail wagging, grin wide. "Just me and my parents. Or, well, me in my shared apartment."

"Oh? Who do you share it with?"

"My college friends. Jake and his partner, Charlie."

"And are you all studying the same thing?"

"Nah. Jake was my roommate in the dorms and we're good friends. They're here, somewhere. Probably dancing, if Jake has anything to do with it."

"What _are_ you studying?" Arthur asked, curiously.

"I'm majoring in Astrophysics and minoring in Electrical Engineering."

"Really?" Arthur was surprised. He hadn't known what he'd expected but he certainly hadn't expected Alfred to study something with a lot of numbers involved. Alfred seemed to him to be someone who valued fun rather than actually working on assignments. Then again, perhaps he should have expected it, what with his geeky t-shirt. "What are you hoping to do with that?" he asked.

"I totally wanna go to space at some point," Alfred admitted. "It'd be so cool! Exploring the stars, finding aliens, bringing back presents."

"Presents?"

"Yup," said Alfred, his smile becoming fond again. "I'd bring you back something, too. A piece of something as pretty as you."

Eyes wide, Arthur stared at Alfred who had lowered his head so as not to make eye contact. He could see the redness of Alfred's cheeks despite his happy smile. Why on Earth did he keep saying things like that? Arthur couldn't look good, what with his no doubt red eyes or his ugly expression as he cried over Kiku.

His shattered heart didn't seem so fractured, though.

"Why on Earth would you do that?" Arthur asked.

"Because I like you," said Alfred simply, turning back to Arthur so he could grin at him. "I like you a lot."

Dumbfounded, Arthur laughed. "What? You've only just met me and I've been talking about my boyfr- My _ex_ -" Arthur stopped to take a deep breath. "Talking about _him_ ," he finished.

Alfred grinned at him. "Yeah, but I'm learning a lot about you."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like you've got awesome tattoos," Alfred declared, waving his hands in his enthusiasm and almost knocking over his own drink. "You like mythical creatures and pirates and roses. Which you got before you started working with your dad?"

"When I was eighteen," Arthur automatically told him. "Before I'd left high school. My parents weren't very pleased with me but I went to uni a few months later and they couldn't stop me from getting more."

"What'd you study?" Alfred asked.

"I went to Business school. My parents both have their own businesses, family-run, and wanted us all to go into it, even though my older brothers are already working with them..."

"See? Now I just found out you've got older brothers and are... quite well off?" Alfred paused until Arthur nodded his affirmative. "So, you studied business but left that for a job here with a boyfriend – which means you're into men, at least. And that I have a chance." There, he stopped to wink at Arthur, despite his slight blush.

Feeling his own face heat up, Arthur hoped the likely flush from the alcohol would cover it. "I'm bisexual," he confirmed, making sure not to make eye contact.

"Another thing! Let's see, what else...? You like beer. You... got dragged out by your friends? I mean, you don't look like you wanted to come out, if you're sitting at the bar on your own."

"I made them go dance, like they wanted to," Arthur explained once again, in order to stop Alfred from thinking he had bad friends as well as a bad boyfriend.

"There we go," said Alfred with a smile. "Now I know you're kind. Actually, I knew that from when you started talking to me – kind enough to talk to someone who's just butting in and being annoying." Alfred laughed then, a short, self-deprecating one. He rubbed the back of his head and gave Arthur a sheepish look.

"You're not being annoying," Arthur quickly told him. "You've been far kinder than I have."

Alfred shrugged. "I only did what anyone else would."

"No you didn't," Arthur insisted. "No-one else would have been as kind and sweet and funny as you have. You, ah, succeeded in your mission, you know, to cheer me up."

"Really?" Alfred brightened, grinning widely.

"Yes." Arthur smiled wryly. "I thought my-" He broke off when he realised what he had been about to say and ducked his head. Unconsciously, his hand raised to clutch at his chest, still marvelling at the way his pain had dulled so much. It was as if Alfred had managed to fix it, gathered up all the little pieces and begun to put them back together. Not that he actually wanted to voice something so silly.

"What?" Alfred prompted. When Alfred didn't say anything else in the face of Arthur's silence, he raised his head to find Alfred smiling encouragingly. "What is it?" he asked again, blinking innocently at Arthur.

To delay his answer, Arthur took a sip of his drink, savouring the taste for a moment. What harm would it do to say what he had been thinking? He wouldn't see Alfred after tonight, anyway. And it might brighten Alfred's night to hear it. So he took a breath and turned back to Alfred.

"I thought my heart was broken beyond repair before I met you," Arthur said, small smile accompanying the declaration.

For a moment, Alfred looked shocked. Then he grinned, flush high on his cheeks. "I've cheered you up that much?"

"Yes." Arthur nodded to emphasise the truth of this statement.

"Great! I just gotta cheer you up even more!"

"You don't need to-"

"Come dance with me!" Alfred exclaimed. Upon seeing Arthur's reluctant expression, Alfred pouted. It was such a cute look on the young man that Arthur couldn't stop himself from smiling, though he made sure to hide it with his glass. "Aw, c'mon! It'll be fun!"

"I'm not a good dancer," Arthur protested.

"Don't care," Alfred declared. His pout became more pronounced.

"We've not finished our drinks," Arthur quickly pointed out, lifting his glass to take a sip.

"Ah, then, whoever finishes their drink first chooses what we do!" And, without further ado, Alfred grabbed his glass and tipped it up, taking huge gulps.

"Wha-? Wait, Alfred, you can-" When it occurred to Arthur that Alfred wasn't going to stop and was quite serious about dragging him to the dance floor, he quickly began to gulp down his own. Unfortunately, the sting of the alcohol from a particularly large gulp had him choking on the following mouthful and he had to put down his glass while he coughed and spluttered. Once he could breathe again, he heard the loud tap of a glass on the counter and looked up to find that Alfred had finished, though not without his spillages. The remnants of the cocktail dribbled down his chin and Alfred licked his lips to catch as much of it as he could.

Arthur swallowed when he saw him do that, fascinated.

"I win!" Alfred cried, throwing a fist in the air in celebration.

"That was hardly fair," Arthur protested. It was mostly for show, however, as he couldn't stop the smile spreading across his lips.

"Come on!" Alfred slid from the stool, blinked a few times and turned to hold out his hand to Arthur. "I promise, I won't make you cry – I mean, I'll try really hard not to stand on your feet."

Unable to stop himself from laughing, Arthur shook his head. But he took Alfred's hand and allowed the man to help him to his feet. As soon as he was standing, a wave of dizziness almost overwhelmed Arthur and he swayed a little, his grip on Alfred's hand tightening. Alfred was quick to place a steadying hand on Arthur's arm.

"Woah, there," he said. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Arthur told him. "Just been sitting down too long."

"Well, then, all the more reason for you to dance!"

Shaking his head again, Arthur let Alfred tug him towards the dance floor. They dodged a few stragglers who were sitting in the bar. One table, a booth attached to the window, contained a man and woman snogging. Arthur stared at them as he went past, spotting their tongues, and wondered if he could do that with Alfred. He shook that thought from his mind as they reached the door and braced himself for an increase in volume.

A wall of noise hit them as soon as the door opened and they stepped through. As they moved down the steps, Arthur felt like he'd gone through a portal to another world. Where the bar was calmer, slow and languid, tucked comfortably away from the world, the club part of the building was loud and hurried, far more intense. Everyone was constantly moving, including the DJ, high on his throne. Music pounded through them, the bass so loud that Arthur wasn't sure what the words were, if there were any at all. Lights blinked and changed colour, changing through a rainbow. People seemed more desperate here, gyrating against each other, dancing closely.

Upon reaching the floor, Arthur had barely a second to orient himself before he was pulled through the crowd, Alfred's hand gripping his tightly. They weaved their way through till they were further in, away from the edge and the familiarity of the bar. Then Alfred turned to him, grinned and began to bop his head, swaying from side to side.

He didn't let go of Arthur's hand.

Since he was here now, Arthur decided to dance as well as he could. Slowly, he built himself up, starting off by swaying with Alfred. It wasn't long till he was moving his whole body, bouncing from foot to foot, popping his hips from side to side, shifting his shoulders. Alfred kept a hold on his hand throughout it all, swinging it from side to side. Arthur tugged at it and Alfred tugged back and, before long, they were having some sort of tug-of-war with each other, keeping to the beat.

It was so ridiculous that Arthur found himself laughing. Alfred was grinning just as widely. Without warning, he suddenly tugged Arthur's arm up and clumsily spun Arthur under his own. Once Arthur realised what he was doing, he cooperated when Alfred did it a second time and they joyfully managed a much smoother movement. Arthur's heart was pounding far faster than the music as they ended up swaying between little movements somewhat like a waltz, only without the closeness, using their hands and wrists as anchors instead.

Suddenly, the song changed and, while it still had the same heavy bass to be expected in a club, the melody itself was slower, more sensual. A cheer rose up from around them and people coupled up or danced in threes as they gyrated close to or against each other. Both Arthur and Alfred froze, staring at each other. Neither of them seemed to know if the other wanted that closeness. But Arthur was quick to realise that Alfred's expression was a questioning one and, with a small smile, he extricated his hands from Alfred's grip and reached up to loop his arms around Alfred's neck.

With a blinding grin, Alfred quickly placed his hands on Arthur's hips, holding them as Arthur swayed them to and fro. They danced in place, slowly shifting from one foot to the other. It took Arthur a while to figure out that they were completely out of time with the beat but, by that point, he didn't care. Instead, he let his fingers play with the ends of Alfred's hair, his fingers brushing against his neck; Alfred's hands squeezed his hips.

Somehow, they moved closer together, Alfred's arms around his waist, possessive and protective. Arthur could actually feel himself falling for the man, happy that Alfred wanted to hold him close. He raised his eyes from where he'd been staring at Alfred's lips to find Alfred already watching him. Their eyes met and, now that he was so close, and even in the dim lighting of the club, Arthur could finally make out what colour they were.

Alfred's eyes were the most beautiful blue Arthur had ever seen. He couldn't look away, drawn close to him. Their heads moved closer. It was almost surreal, how close they had become in the brief time they had known each other. Arthur found himself wanting to move closer, to press himself against Alfred. He _wanted_ Alfred.

Then someone bumped into Arthur, nudging him still closer until their noses bumped together. Arthur's eyes flickered down to where they touched before returning to Alfred's eyes. Neither of them moved away. For the briefest instant, they gazed at each other. Arthur felt as if he had stopped breathing. Then, he tilted his head to the right, Alfred bent his head down a little and...

Their lips were pressed together. Tingles ran along Arthur's body as Alfred pulled him closer, their mouths moving in sync. Arthur clung to Alfred, his eyes closed, the music pumping through him. His heart pounded, a little out of rhythm with the music, just enough for Arthur to know how fast it was beating. Feeling Alfred's tongue sweep along his bottom lip, Arthur let him in, drawing Alfred in with his own tongue. They kissed like that, all tongues and breathlessness and desperation, in their own little world on the dance floor.

Eventually, they had to pull apart gasping for breath. But Alfred didn't let Arthur go, only pulled him closer. Their bodies were almost flush against each other; Arthur could feel the bulge in Alfred's jeans, knew there was one in his own as well. When they leaned their foreheads against each other's, Arthur briefly thought of Kiku. Was kissing a random stranger in a club the smart thing to do here? Was he simply desperate for the attention Kiku had neglected to give him towards the end of their relationship?

His doubts were swept away when Alfred looked up at him and grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners from the force of his smile. Those blue eyes sparkled, looking genuinely excited and impossibly happy. In that moment, with his body thrumming from the alcohol and music, Arthur knew that his feelings, his yearning to know more about Alfred, the need for him to stay with him for the rest of the night, his desire to have Alfred fuck him, were all genuine.

With that realisation, Arthur tipped himself up to capture Alfred's lips once more. He felt rather than heard Alfred's noise of surprise but Alfred was quick to reciprocate. They kissed like that, Arthur's hand becoming daring as it tangled in Alfred's hair, keeping his head in place. Alfred's hands fluttered around Arthur's hips, his waist, and, with a finality of a decision made, ended up on Arthur's arse. Arthur had to bite Alfred's lip when he squeezed his arse cheeks, moaning as he did so, though he knew Alfred wouldn't hear him.

Suddenly, Alfred pulled away, his hands leaving Arthur's body. Arthur panicked, thinking that his newfound lover was deserting him before they'd even begun. Instead, Alfred caught hold of Arthur's hand, fingers intertwined, and began to pull him along, leading him off the dance floor. Arthur stumbled after him for a few steps before forcing his trembling legs to take bigger strides as they wormed their way towards a corner of the room.

It wasn't until they'd reached the edge of the crowd that Arthur was able to see where he was being taken. Two doors were nestled there with the familiar symbols for 'male' and 'female'. He felt himself blushing a little as he realised what he was about to do – because he knew he would not stop this. Arthur wanted this as much as Alfred clearly did.

Alfred burst through the door and they almost fell down the stairs on the other side. Rather dangerous for a club, Arthur thought, before realising that Alfred had been going so fast that they'd cleared five feet of landing before reaching them. Barely pausing, Alfred hurried down the steps, the music fading behind them as walls dampened the noise. Once again, the thumping bass followed them, the song different now so it matched Arthur's racing heart.

At the bottom of the stairs, they came across another door with the same symbol, obviously to deter those drunken people who were in the wrong place. Not that it mattered, really, when they went through, door swinging behind them. Nobody seemed to be there: no-one was at the urinal; the cubicle doors were all ajar; a tap had been left on but no-one was washing their hands. Beer bottles and glasses had been left in various places on the floor, on the sink counter, in the sinks and even in the urinals. Arthur wasn't surprised when Alfred tugged them into the cubicle the furthest from the door and kicked another bottle over as he pulled the door closed behind them, locking it to keep out the people who turned up a few seconds later, laughing and singing.

Breathing heavily, Arthur clutched at Alfred's arms, stifling a giggle by biting his lip. Alfred didn't manage to hold in his amusement, a snort escaping him. Thankfully, the men just beyond the door didn't hear him and Alfred let his arms wrap around Arthur's waist. They both moved closer at the same time, meeting in another passionate kiss, Alfred's hands sneaking their way down to Arthur's arse, gripping them tightly.

After the men had left, Alfred pulled away to murmur, "Have you got anything?"

Heart sinking, Arthur realised he wasn't going to be thoroughly fucked. He was yearning for something in his arse, almost aching for it. Kiku had sometimes switched with him but he had mostly let Arthur top. Now, Arthur wanted to be fucked – and he hadn't brought anything useful with him.

Before he could reconsider his actions and leave, Alfred grinned. "It's okay," he said, evidently guessing at Arthur's discontentment. "I've got stuff." He reached into his back pocket and drew out a small packet of lube and a condom. Alfred fanned them out a little and handed them over. "Hold onto them while I get you outta your clothes."

With a shudder, Arthur obliged, shuffling back till his calves hit the toilet bowl. He glanced over his shoulder and was relieved to see that the toilet lid was down. Then Alfred's hands were at his crotch, frantically tugging at his zip. Arthur watched him for a moment, admiring his handsome face and his soft hair. Then his attention was caught by the glowing lightsaber on his chest and he sighed. He didn't exactly want to see that while he was being fucked...

So, once Alfred had managed to unfasten his jeans, Arthur grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it upwards. Alfred laughed at his eagerness and quickly raised his arms to let Arthur do as he wished. He was tempted to drop it, out of sight and out of mind, but he was aware of where they were and he twisted to place it on the toilet seat. Hopefully, it wouldn't get too dirty there.

As soon as Arthur turned back to him, Alfred peeled his jeans away from his skin and pushed them down. He paused once they were only partially away from his crotch. The young man stared down at him but Arthur was too preoccupied with staring at Alfred's chest to notice. Alfred must have done some sort of sport at high school or he really liked to keep fit: he had the perfectly smooth, muscled chest of a god. In fact, he looked like a statue from Ancient Greece.

His thoughts almost turned to Kiku and Herakles but Alfred's awed voice when he spoke wrenched his mind away from them. "Dude. Are you... going commando?"

"Oh. Um. They're very tight jeans..." said Arthur hesitantly, wondering if Alfred would be freaked out by it.

"Wow," Alfred breathed, evidently unable to take his eyes off Arthur. He probably saw the way Arthur's cock twitched as Arthur revelled in the attention.

"Are you going to take them off?" Arthur asked after a moment.

"Yeah..." said Alfred, breathily. Thankfully, he did as he was told and peeled the jeans the rest of the way down. Since the jeans were stuck to Arthur's legs there was much tugging and swaying and muffled curses – but Alfred was determined and he continued on, obviously trying to be as gentle as possible with Arthur. When he reached Arthur's calves, he had to bend his knees, wobbling until he thumped into the door and slid down. Once he was in a crouch, Arthur drinking in the sight of his broad shoulders and bright hair, he gently pulled off Arthur's shoes and socks so he could get the jeans off completely. Arthur grimaced as he touched the sticky floor but he was quickly distracted when Alfred leaned forward – bracing himself on the wall with one hand, gripping the back of Arthur's knee with other – and kissed the inside of Arthur's thigh, too far yet so close to Arthur's dick.

"Al-" Arthur began but the bang of the outer door interrupted him. He jolted with a gasp before tensing, his heart hammering. Were they about to be caught? Would they be thrown out? Would everyone see and-?

His thoughts were cut off as something wrapped around the tip of his cock. Arthur threw up a hand in an attempt to muffle his intake of breath but he was too late. He was sure it echoed and he bit down on a knuckle in the hopes of stopping any more noises. Then he dared to look down as he felt something flicking along his slit. Alfred was watching him, his bright eyes focussed on Arthur's face as he suckled on Arthur's cock. With his flushed cheeks and his bare shoulders and his mouth doing interesting things to him, Arthur couldn't stop himself from grabbing hold of Alfred's hair, gripping it tightly as he groaned lowly around his finger.

A flushing sound came from beyond the cubicle and Arthur briefly wondered how much longer the man outside would be. He closed his eyes as Alfred took more of him in, his tongue and lips dragging down his length, aiming for his base. There was a squeaking noise and running water which indicated the man was nearly gone. In his mind's eye, Arthur was able to see an oblivious man, slightly drunk, standing but a few feet from where Arthur was about to be fucked. Shuddering, the pressure from Arthur's arousal increased. Alfred's tongue wrapped around Arthur as he moved, a little sloppy but good enough for Arthur to admire the skill, to feel himself getting close, his fingers curling tighter in Alfred's hair...

Before he could whisper a warning, the sound of the door opening once more had Alfred pulling off Arthur completely. With an unconscious whine, Arthur frowned down at him. "Why would you-?" he began.

"God, you taste so good," said Alfred. Before Arthur could blush or respond, Alfred used the wall of the cubicle to rise to his feet. Arthur inwardly mourned the loss of Alfred's hand from his leg as Alfred winced and stretched. Once he had finished, he raised his eyes to Arthur's and grinned. "Right. Gotta open you up, huh?"

Arthur had to remind himself to breathe when he heard that. He nodded quickly, watching Alfred intently as he took the small foil packet of lube from his hand. When Alfred paused once again, Arthur scowled at him. "Hurry up. I need..."

"I know, honey," Alfred told him soothingly. He smiled fondly at Arthur who couldn't help ducking his head a little to bashfully gaze at him from under his eyelashes. Softly chuckling, Alfred raised his hand to cup Arthur's cheek and gently tipped his head up so they were looking into each other's eyes. Arthur let himself sink into them, relaxing more, utterly entranced. Clearly, Alfred was unable to resist pressing forward into another kiss, slow and languid and achingly sweet. "I just need to figure out the best way to do this..." Alfred murmured against Arthur's lips, kissing him as soon as he was finished speaking.

"I can..." Arthur managed before Alfred swiped his tongue along Arthur's lips. They parted in a sigh and Alfred took advantage of it, slipping his tongue in and gently coaxing Arthur's tongue to slowly press against his. For a few moments, they continued snogging, Arthur's hands resting lightly on Alfred's shoulders as Alfred continued to hold his face. He felt cared for in a way he'd never felt before, his heart swelling. His erection was almost an afterthought as he relished the passionate kiss.

They continued kissing until the door opened once more. Alfred pulled away then and tugged at Arthur's top. Understanding, Arthur shifted back a little, wobbled, caught himself on the cistern and, once he was sure he could stand without assistance, pulled his top off in one smooth movement. Blinking, Arthur looked up to see Alfred's reaction, letting the top drop onto the toilet seat. Alfred was staring, his eyes roving over Arthur's entire body in all its glory. His gaze lingered on the tattoos, seemingly drinking in the details, absorbing them as much as possible.

Finally, seconds after they heard someone else enter, Alfred murmured, "Beautiful."

"I can turn around, if you'd like," Arthur whispered. And he did so, showing off his tattoos before bending over to present himself to Alfred, entirely trusting of him.

It took some time for Alfred to react. A tap was running beyond their little bubble of space. Or maybe Arthur was listening to one of the men taking a piss. He shuddered, thinking of how, in this room, it was normal for scores of men to have their dick out – but he and Alfred were about to do something illicit.

This was far more exciting than anything he had ever done before.

Hands were suddenly on his shoulders, making him jolt with surprise and shudder with anticipation. _Lower_ , he willed, _lower_. But Alfred only traced his tattoos, making him shiver. He had to brace himself on the cistern, trying to steady his breathing. Then, without warning, Alfred's gentle hands began to move downwards. Arthur closed his eyes in bliss, glad to be rid of the sight of the back of the toilet and the graffiti there. Thumbs pressed into the small of his back and Arthur groaned, arching over more to present himself further. Chuckling softly, Alfred massaged his lower back for a while, waiting until the door had swung shut on their intruders to press his hands over Arthur's arse cheeks and firmly cup them. Arthur bit his lip.

"I want to see you," Alfred murmured, almost inaudible over the rushing sound of Arthur's pulse in his ears. "Turn around."

Obeying, Arthur frowned up at him. "It's too small a space to finger me in here."

"Nah. I know a way. Here, take this." And he handed Arthur the lube.

"Wha-?" Arthur began. He didn't get very far before Alfred had grabbed his knee again and lifted it upwards. Arthur had to grab hold of Alfred's shoulder with one hand, anxiously clutching the small packet in the other, as he found himself spread almost in a vertical splits – it was a good thing that he was fairly flexible. Alfred's other hand gripped Arthur's waist firmly, steadying him.

"Open it up for me," Alfred said. "I've got you so you can use two hands to do it. I mean, you can use your mouth but it's not edible..."

"Right," muttered Arthur, wishing his cheeks hadn't turned so red from this new position. He could feel it stretching him, pulling his arse cheeks apart so Alfred could have easy access to his hole. Lowering his gaze to the packet, he reluctantly let go of Alfred's warm body to do as he was bid, carefully ripping it open.

"Cool," said Alfred once he'd done it. "I'm gonna let go of your hip, 'kay? You ready?"

"What?" Arthur asked, panicked.

"I need to get a hand free. Just put your hand on my shoulder again."

"I-" Again, Arthur was interrupted by the door swinging open. His heart thudded in his chest in surprise, having forgotten for a brief moment where they were. Loud, boisterous men entered the toilet, laughing and shouting and cheering. Someone even thudded on the cubicle doors, possibly looking for a free one. In all the noise and confusion, Arthur couldn't figure out whether someone was actually using another cubicle or if they had just been trying to scare the people within them. He wasn't expecting his cock to twitch at the thought of the men being bolder than most and looking over the wall. Biting his lip, Arthur looked up at Alfred; he didn't know what expression his face was making – a mixture of horror and arousal, perhaps – but Alfred grinned and leaned into Arthur to whisper into his ear.

"Don't worry about them. Ignore 'em. Put your hand on my shoulder."

"Didja say something?" said one of the men outside of the cubicle, loud enough to cover the small whimper Arthur couldn't stop from slipping through his lips.

While the men outside descended into confusion, Arthur decided to trust Alfred to catch him if he fell and placed his free hand on Alfred's shoulder. Then he put all his weight on one leg and winced as Alfred let go. But he stayed standing, albeit wobbling a little. Sighing in relief, Arthur tried to hand over the packet.

"Nah," murmured Alfred. "Just pour half on my hand and brace yourself. Keep hold of that."

Pursing his lips in disapproval, Arthur did as he was told before wrapping his arm around Alfred's neck, leaning against his chest slightly. Alfred expressed his approval with a kiss to Arthur's hair which sent tingles down Arthur's body, all the way to his dick. He ducked his head and buried his face in Alfred's neck, only releasing a groan when he was sure it was muffled.

A sudden thump against the cubicle door made Arthur jolt, rubbing his cock against Alfred's bulge. He quickly bit his lip to keep from making a sound and he felt Alfred tense against him. Neither of them moved as a voice on the other side of the thin – so thin! – door spoke. "Anyone in there? Or is this outta order?"

Footsteps followed the statement and it took a moment to realise that the man was pacing, trying to see under the, thankfully, low door. Then another voice rang out. "Todd, what're ya doing?"

"Yeah, man," said a deeper, more gravelly voice. "That's disgusting. The floor's covered in junk."

"I just wanna know if there's someone fucking in there or if I'm going mad," Todd answered.

Rustling noises and more sounds of movement drifted to them. Arthur hoped they had decided to go away for Alfred seemed to deem it safe to move again, grinding against Arthur's length. It was highly unfair; Arthur made an odd huffing noise as he tried to keep in a whine. God, he wanted more, needed it and he couldn't wait until Alfred decided to start opening him up. Especially since the position was a little sore on his muscles-

His thoughts broke off as he felt something brush against the edge of his hole, searching it out. Arthur tried not to make a sound, a little aghast that Alfred was still trying to continue while there were still people so close. Yet, at the same time, Arthur was finding himself aroused, his cock throbbing as he yearned for Alfred to be inside him.

And, after he had circled Arthur's hole gently, he was. A single finger only up to the first knuckle intruded into Arthur. The strange sensation Arthur had felt so few times, the feeling of being slowly filled, sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach. He took several deep breaths through his nose, trying to relax despite the twinges in his hip from his elevated leg. With the men still outside and arguing about whether Todd was hearing things or not, he was sure it would take quite some time. Alfred would get bored waiting to be able to enter him and leave – and Arthur would be left to go back to moping over-

But Alfred seemed to be just as determined to have sex with Arthur. He pressed gentle, caring kisses to Arthur's hair. Arthur had to bite his lip to keep from sighing, sure it would ruin the moment. Unwittingly, he relaxed significantly and Alfred waited a moment before he slowly slid the rest of his finger in. Arthur went back to taking heaving breaths, his lips pressed together in an effort to muffle the sound.

Another commotion suddenly arose as the men began to leave. Todd was still arguing with someone whilst another couple of men were discussing who they intended on pulling. Arthur didn't have long to relax with relief before Alfred began to pull his finger out of him. Turning his head, Arthur pressed his lips against Alfred's neck and muffled his groan there, his fingers tightening on Alfred's shoulder and around the packet. He felt some of the lube squirt out onto his hand but he didn't care, not when Alfred was beginning to build up speed as he fucked him with his finger. The slight pain and stretch was nullified by the pleasing sensation of being filled, of being treated carefully instead of awkwardly and hastily opened up for someone who didn't want to stick his dick in him.

Before he could think on his former lover any further, Alfred's second finger prodded at him. Arthur let himself groan while no-one was around, throwing his head back as he hung from Alfred's neck. Chuckling, Alfred pushed in his finger and paused. The stretch was a little more painful than the first finger and Arthur's face scrunched up as he breathed through his nose, willing his body to allow Alfred in.

"So vocal," said Alfred, loud enough for Arthur to hear the edge of a faint echo. If anyone was still quietly in the toilet...

Shuddering, Arthur lifted his head to look at Alfred, admiring the way his blue eyes had darkened and his rosy cheeks. His partner was sweating, making him all the more attractive. Arthur wondered if he was sweating, too, and was he just as enticing? Did Alfred want to lick the sweat off his body the way Arthur wanted to do to Alfred? Instead of voicing any of this, Arthur just smirked, shifting slightly to indicate that he was very, very ready for Alfred to get a move on.

"Faster," he ordered before he drew Alfred closer in order to kiss him.

Alfred obeyed, pushing at Arthur's leg as he leaned against Arthur. His fingers worked their way in and out of Arthur, twisting and turning dragging against his walls. That delicious friction was only a fraction of what he wanted, needed, yearned for. He almost fell when he tried to move with Alfred: Arthur wasn't sure whether he wished they were on a bed or if he was actually enjoying the dangers of being fucked in the bog.

There was a sudden, bigger stretch as Alfred spread his fingers. Arthur gasped and groaned, the noise echoing around them as he pulled away from the kiss. Alfred seemed pleased to hear it, if his happy hum was anything to go by. He pecked Arthur on the lips before he pressed one to his ear. After he had twisted his fingers a few times, Alfred spoke up.

"If you want me to go faster, are you ready for the third finger?"

"Yes," Arthur breathed.

With one last kiss to Arthur's hair, Alfred inserted his finger, slow as before. This time, the stretch was a little more painful, a little too much. Arthur gasped, his head falling forward to Alfred's shoulder. The pain lasted for a mere moment before it quickly dulled: Arthur wondered if the alcohol he had consumed was helping him. Little 'ah!'s escaped him as Alfred continued, determinedly forging onwards.

Finally, all three fingers were in and Arthur allowed himself to slump further forward, all his weight on Alfred's chest. He breathed heavily, his heart pounding, cock throbbing and twitching as he brushed against Alfred. Dimly, he was aware of the door opening again to admit someone else to the toilet. This time, he didn't care if the person on the other side heard them or if they decided to look over the cubicle – he was content. Alfred's fingers filled him up, his thumb rubbed soothingly against his leg; Arthur could have stayed there like that forever.

Then, just as he was beginning to feel the need for more, Alfred began to move his fingers. Arthur couldn't suppress his groan, the noise filling the room. They pulled out and drove back in, twisted and turned, prodded and searched. Arthur moaned all the while, panting between each throaty noise. Sudden friction along his entire dick made Arthur inhale sharply, hips bucking minutely, unable to move further in the odd position. It happened again and Arthur came slowly to the realisation that he wasn't imagining it: Alfred was grinding against him, his erection still clothed.

"Haha!" cried someone from beyond the door. Arthur ignored him, trying to move against Alfred. His partner squeezed his leg in a warning just as the person spoke again. "I knew it! There's someone fucking in there, right? Go get 'er, dude!"

"Sure thing!" Alfred called back, breathlessly, dismissively. Frowning, Arthur pulled back to raise an eyebrow at him; Alfred shrugged and kissed him, working his fingers around in Arthur's hole.

Pure pleasure shot through Arthur; he broke from the kiss to cry out. The leg he stood on shook, almost buckling. All his weight was on Alfred all of a sudden, pressing Alfred's finger straight into his prostate. Without thinking, he yelled and whimpered, scrabbling at Alfred's shoulders.

"Sounds intense," said the voice from outside. "Keep it up, man!"

"Will do," Alfred answered him, even as he pulled his fingers away from Arthur's sweet spot. Arthur almost cried when he did that, a whine escaping him as the door swung shut again. "Sorry," Alfred murmured. "I'll fill you up again soon, 'kay?" And he pulled his fingers all the way out. Again, Arthur whined but, this time, he was quieter, knowing exactly what was about to happen. "Ready with that lube?"

"Yes," Arthur replied, his speech a little slurred from pleasure and alcohol.

Carefully, Alfred lowered Arthur's leg. Arthur winced at both the twinge in his muscles and the increasing feeling of emptiness inside him. Once Arthur's feet were on the (sticky) floor, Alfred placed his hands on Arthur's hips to steady him. Then, he moved slightly away from Arthur – who suppressed a noise of protest – and began to undo his trousers.

Arthur's eyes latched onto Alfred's fingers, watching them as they fumbled with the button once. His fingers twitched, eager to help but, on some level, he knew he would only prolong the unveiling. Finally, Alfred succeeded and he tugged his jeans down a little, just enough that he could pull out his dick and nothing would get in the way. And pull it out he did; Arthur licked his lips when he saw how big he was and eagerly brought his hands down from around Alfred's neck.

"Wait," said Alfred when he saw Arthur holding out the lube. He held out his own hand, gesturing with his fingers. "Condom first."

"I'll do that," Arthur quickly suggested. He didn't bother waiting for Alfred to agree or disagree: he tried to open the condom with his fingers but, upon realising that one of them was covered in lube and just slipping off the foil, Arthur used his teeth. Alfred inhaled sharply, audible in the silence of the bathroom. Smirking, Arthur was quick to roll the condom onto Alfred's cock. Then he paused, staring down at his lube-covered hand and the mostly empty lube packet. With a widening smirk, he glanced up at Alfred. "Allow me," he said and swiftly grabbed hold of Alfred's length. It was thick and heavy in his hand and Arthur yearned for it more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

More than he had wanted Kiku.

That thought was buried as he listened to Alfred's groans. Pleased that he was the one making him react like that, Arthur tightened his grip and dragged his hand slowly up and down. Alfred's hands landed on Arthur's hips, his own bucking slightly as he chased Arthur's friction. He watched Alfred's chest heaving, his eyelids flickering, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. A shudder went from the top of Arthur's head to his toes as he took the sight in, his toes curling, suddenly desperate to be closer. So, to finish off slicking Alfred up, Arthur twisted his hand, smearing more of the lube on him. Alfred moaned, low and loud.

" _Fuck_ ," said Alfred, pulling Arthur close to him. Their dicks brushed and it sent tingles along Arthur's body.

"Please," Arthur begged, putting his arms around Alfred's shoulders and pulling him closer, uncaring that lube still covered his hand.

"Yes," Alfred answered and promptly put an arm under Arthur's knee again.

Though he winced as his muscles were stretched once again, Arthur allowed him to do so and to position his cock at his stretched entrance. He braced himself on Alfred's shoulders again, this time more hugging him than holding on, while all his weight went on his other leg. Alfred prodded at him and Arthur forced himself to relax, excited to finally get what he wanted. With his hand lining himself up, Alfred slowly pushed his tip into Arthur's hole.

The stretch was a little more than Arthur was expecting and he groaned in both pain and pleasure. But the feeling of Alfred being where Arthur had been wanting for what felt like forever overrode his pain and he tried to push down on him. Alfred had other ideas: he slowly made his way inside, careful of Arthur's discomfort, pushing in centimetre by centimetre. It was excruciating torture but Arthur could do nothing about it. He groaned loudly, threw his head back, pressed it into Alfred's shoulder, whimpered at the sensations, begged – all while ignoring any noises from beyond their little world. Voices whispered or shouted at them and Arthur was only vaguely aware that Alfred was deflecting the men's interest. By that point, Arthur honestly didn't care if the door was wide open and people were watching them. All he needed was for Alfred to fuck him till he came and he would be content.

Eventually, Alfred was all the way inside. His free hand ended up on Arthur's hip, keeping him balanced as he wobbled, overwhelmed by the blissful feeling of fullness. He nudged at Arthur's head with his own until Arthur was able to raise it from Alfred's shoulder, looking at him through swimming eyes. Smiling, Alfred raised the hand on his hip to quickly wipe away the gathering tears – a gesture which almost had Arthur tearing up again. Before he could get emotional, however, Alfred did what he had intended in the first place: captured his lips in another gentle kiss.

"Ready?" Alfred whispered when he pulled away.

"Yes," Arthur breathed.

Again, Alfred dipped down for a kiss but, this time, he began to pull out as he did so. Arthur whimpered into the kiss but was soon moaning again as Alfred deftly working his tongue around his mouth. Then, without a word of warning, Alfred thrust back in. Their lips parted as they both moaned, barely a whisper of air between them. Alfred didn't consult him again, merely pulling out once more to thrust back in. Slowly, he built up his pace, filling Arthur over and over till Arthur was trying to move against him.

That seemed to be a sort of signal to Alfred who shifted his grip, one hand still under Arthur's knee and the other grasping as his opposite arse cheek. Before Arthur could even make a guess at what he was doing, Alfred lifted him into the air. He yelped in surprise before moaning loudly as gravity did its work and he sank further down onto Alfred's thick girth. Alfred's hands shifted again, stroking along him until he had his hands on Arthur's hips, Arthur's legs already instinctively curled around Alfred's waist.

"There," Alfred murmured against Arthur's lips. "That's better, right?"

"Uh huh," Arthur answered and eagerly kissed him again, this one sloppier than before, lips and tongue and teeth. He could feel Alfred chuckling into it, his chest shaking, his whole body shaking, driving that lovely cock a little further in. Moaning again, he ground downwards, drawing more of Alfred inside him. That garnered an answering moan from Alfred and Arthur smiled, pleased with the reaction.

"Well?" Alfred said once they'd stopped shifting around.

"Fuck me," Arthur told him, both an order and the permission he sought.

His grip on Arthur's hips tightened, sure to leave bruises. With the firmer grip, he lifted Arthur off him before pulling him roughly down, spearing Arthur on his dick. It made Arthur groan, the drag along his inner walls tantalising and breathtaking. He wanted more and so he squirmed against Alfred, trying to gain it.

Obligingly, Alfred began to lift and drop Arthur. Each one made them moan and groan. The pressure slowly began to build within Arthur, his entire body on fire, pleasure singing through it. His toes curled every time he was dropped. Fingers clutched at Alfred's shoulders, his nails digging in to leave scratches red against his delicious tan. Their kisses were short and sloppy but passionate and caring. Arthur loved every second that passed with Alfred, praying for it to continue forever.

Yet, the sensations were not quite enough. He wanted more, wanted to reach the peak, wanted to fall off it with Alfred, arms wrapped around each other. His mind was muddled with the constant thrusts so he tried to convey these thoughts with more kisses, to Alfred's lips, his nose, his cheeks, his neck when he could reach.

Finally, he managed to gather his wits about him and tugged Alfred's head away with fingers curled in his hair. "More," he demanded. "I need more. And _faster_."

"Sure thing," Alfred replied – and promptly spun them around.

It took Arthur's breath away, a brief period of lightheadedness making him disoriented. Then his back hit a wall of some sort and Alfred was leaning against him, propping him up against it. Arthur got a brief view of the toilet seat, vaguely realised they were now fucking against the cubicle door, and was quickly made to forget those unimportant details when Alfred continued moving.

With something to lean against and a way to keep Arthur in one place, Alfred was able to thrust into Arthur with more force, and more frequently. He was soon pounding into Arthur, so fast that Arthur couldn't catch a breath. All Arthur could do was clutch at him, moaning and groaning, crying out with garbled words, clutching him tightly. Alfred seemed to love the noises he made and kept his mouth to Arthur's cheek or nibbling at his ear or sucking a mark onto Arthur's neck. Arthur had no idea whether there were people listening in or if they were entirely alone and all he could concentrate on was the drag of Alfred's cock, the feeling of fullness and contentment, those amazing lips, the heat spreading, the pressure building, pleasure everywhere...

Alfred shifted suddenly.

He hit Arthur's prostate.

Blinding pleasure shot through Arthur and, before he could recover, it happened again and again and again and-

Reaching the edge, Arthur tipped over it and he shouted Alfred's name to the ceiling, his cum coating both of them.

With his mind muddled from the pressure, chest heaving as he panted, Arthur tensed up while his cock pumped more of his cum out. Throughout his orgasm, he felt himself being jolted as Alfred continued to thrust into him, faster and more erratic than before. As Arthur hung on and slowly began to relax, he soon felt a warmth inside him, a warmth which seemed to seep through him, as Alfred came. Alfred chose to bury himself in Arthur, holding him close.

Slowly, both of them came down from their high. Arthur was feeling dizzy and a little ill – the result of the alcohol, he presumed. But he was content and happy for the first time in... When had he last been this happy? He couldn't remember but he hoped this would last.

Spinning them around again – but much slower than before – Alfred placed Arthur gently onto the toilet seat. "Better get cleaned up," he murmured, sounding a little breathless. He pulled away from Arthur then, his limp cock slipping free. They both grimaced, Arthur feeling empty and lonely once again.

_But Alfred's right there_ , Arthur thought to himself. The feeling of loneliness receded at that and he lazily smiled up at Alfred, watching as he grabbed several squares of toilet paper to clean them up. Once Alfred had wiped down both of them, overly careful with his partner, Arthur reached forward to help Alfred out, carefully pulling the condom free. His touch had Alfred stilling gazing down at him when Arthur glanced up. They smiled at each other.

As Arthur tied it off, the noises from beyond reached them. People were in the toilet again, sniggering and whispering far too loudly. They were obviously discussing them but Arthur didn't care, not when Alfred was kindly holding out Arthur's jeans, keen to help him into his clothes again. Quietly, they got dressed, stealing glances and helping out: Alfred had to tug Arthur's jeans back on and, if he took the opportunity to touch Arthur, lightly, just enough to be felt and send tingles shooting through Arthur's body, then Arthur couldn't blame him. After all, he was just as bad, trailing his hands down Alfred's chest as he pulled his silly shirt back on.

Finally, both of them were ready to face the outside world. Arthur was reluctant to leave, however, and, from the pout on Alfred's face, it was clear he didn't want to go back to reality either. Could they just stay there? Or, maybe...

Turning to Alfred, Arthur looped his arms around his neck. The man blinked in surprise but he was quick to wrap his own around Arthur's waist, pulling him close, holding him tight. "Alfred," Arthur murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. "Would you like to... continue this?" he suggested, keeping it vague. There were a number of things they could do. For one, Arthur wanted to drag Alfred to a room with a bed and fuck him or ride him or both. On the other hand, Arthur would dearly love to go on some proper dates, go have fun, do the things that Kiku was reluctant to do with him...

At the reminder of Kiku, Arthur glanced away, down at Alfred's chest. Should he even be doing this? Should he stop this here? Didn't he like Kiku? How could he get over Kiku so quickly?

Pushing his doubts aside for the moment, Arthur looked back up to see Alfred smiling down at him fondly. "Yeah," he whispered, pressing his lips to Arthur's forehead. His gentleness took Arthur's breath away and he could feel himself blushing. Warmth spread through him and he felt at peace once more. Maybe he could do this, he could take Alfred back with him... And, if he couldn't right now, he'd definitely be able to once he'd gotten another drink.

Cocking his head to the side, Arthur said, "Listen." He paused for them both to hear that the men from before had left but that there was someone else in the toilet now. "They don't know we're in here, so we should leave separately – just in case the bouncers are outside."

"Separately?" asked Alfred with a pout.

"Mm," Arthur replied, nodding. "I'll meet you at the bar. I'll buy you a drink – what do you want?"

"Sex on the Beach," Alfred immediately responded.

Arthur snorted. "And here I thought you would want a Blowjob."

Gulping, Alfred eagerly nodded. "That too!"

Chuckling, Arthur said, "Well, then. I'll see you at the bar." And, with those final words, Arthur reached up and pecked Alfred on the lips. Before Alfred could kiss back, Arthur pulled away, turned and unlocked the door. He glanced over his shoulder as he opened the door, pleased to see that Alfred had his fingers raised to his lips and looked blissfully happy. It made Arthur's heart swell as he slipped out of the cubicle.

Beyond the door, Arthur nodded in polite greeting to the man at the urinals. He made a point of going to the sinks to wash his hands, even going so far as to splash water onto his face. Once he'd played his part satisfactorily, he moved off, passing the man as he stumbled to the sinks. He pulled open the door to the bathroom, stood aside for a large man who murmured his thanks, and eagerly entered the club, keen to sidle through the press of bodies to the bar.

Excitement rose within him as the thumping bass of a song he didn't recognise vibrated through him. He bobbed his head as he moved, blending in with the rest of the people. Some were grinding against each other; much like he had when Alfred lifted him against the door. Others were spinning; like they had done when they turned around in the tiny cubicle. There were a few who were doing more complicated dance moves, rising and falling; the way Alfred had fucked Arthur.

A shiver went down his spine and he hoped Alfred would agree to leave the club with him later. He really wanted to give Alfred a proper blowjob, not just a drink. And he hoped they could exchange numbers. Maybe, once he had gotten over his hangover and properly gotten over Kiku, he could call Alfred, arrange a date, actually start going out...

His thoughts were interrupted when he eventually stepped into the bar – Francis practically launched himself at Arthur, crying out in relief. "Arthur! Where have you been? I saw you with that rather attractive man a while ago and then you just... disappeared!"

"We thought he'd lured you away while you were drunk," Antonio added, clasping and unclasping his hands.

"Yeah, he could've been anything," Gilbert added, bottle of beer in one hand. He took a sip of it, gasped, and continued with, "He could've been a vampire, for all we knew."

"A vampire?" Arthur asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

"Ignore him," Francis declared, hooking his arm around Arthur's. "We need to get you out of here."

"What?" Arthur demanded, panicking. He couldn't leave without seeing Alfred again! "Why?"

"You're drunk, Arthur. How many have you had?"

"I'm not that drunk!"

"You're swaying pretty badly," Antonio said, gently.

"And it's our fault," Francis continued. "You clearly weren't ready to go out. We shouldn't have dragged you here. You're completely vulnerable in your state and we shouldn't have left you alone."

"No," Arthur insisted. "It's fine. I just want to go to the bar."

"It's getting late, you know," Gilbert pointed out. "Don't you have work tomorrow? Let's just go." And he knocked his bottle back to chug the rest of his drink.

"Exactly," said Francis and proceeded to tug Arthur away from the bar and towards the door to the outside world.

"Wait!" Arthur protested. But his friends didn't listen and his body was fatigued from his earlier activities. Unable to resist, he was led from the club, never to catch sight of Alfred again that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may notice (once I've done it, I knew I was forgetting something), this story now belongs to the "Sticky" series. All the stories in the series will be titled with something sticky like Sellotape. They'll all be in the AU of the chapter but not the - the bad ending just gets worse so... 
> 
> Anyways, the next part of the Sticky series will be written for Valentine's Day since that's when it's gonna be set. So. There's that to look forward to.


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